Wait... this is weird… this is not Amorphalia. It’s the external world. Hah. Weird. Yet it does very much resemble Amorphalia… Mmmm…Well…that was a bit much but you’ll be fine. Calm down. Shit! Why is your pulse like 180 BPM?? What the hell..? Okay, let’s dance for a bit, shall we? 

Yaayyy, this is fun, and you’re definitely not having a heart attack, right?

Yeaaah… everything is… fine… I guess. 

– Sis’ Did you say that out loud or did you just imagine saying it? – Sis’ I feel terrible…

– What’s the matter, darling? Pupils the size of plates stare at you. This is weird. But you did say it out loud. Thats good, you still can speak.

– I think I’m going to die.

– Don’t be silly, you’re fine!
– No! I just said that I am not fine! I’m going to fucking die!

– Don’t say that, you’re maing me feel sick with that...Wait a second! That was a different voice than the one before. You look in the direction it came from and see a bald man with tattoos on his perfect brown skin laying on a sofa. He is wearing a red dress, with a side slit that goes to the middle of his thighs. You feel the blood rush to your face and your ears go hot. But at the same moment, you realize that is just a friend of yours and you were never attracted to him. Why not until now? And now why? This makes no sense! Nothing makes sense!

– NOTHING MAKES ANY SENSE! you shout out of nowhere. The pupils are staring at you again. They slowly close and say:
– Okay… chill out. 

– Oh shit I think you’ve just put me on a bad trip! says the red dress.

– I..I..I’m s-s-sorry. Why did you just start stuttering? And why did you apologize?! Tell him to fuck off! Your heart rate is like, fucking sky high, you are on a bad trip right now! Tell him that you are afraid!

Tell him!

Okay, then tell pupils!


What happened, why can’t you speak? Speak please, you just have to open your mouth!

– eeeee…

– Okay, let’s go upstairs and play something. What do you say to that? Now theres just one pupil, and it has become a whole eye with smiling eyelids. 

Playing, yes, that’s great, something to keep your mind off the heart attack you are having. I don’t want to be afraid of dying before I die…Yes, playing sounds good. I love playing.

You nod your head, follow the smiling eye upstairs and take a last look at the red dress. 

– Can you roll a cigarette? Your mouth is dry, but you nod and start rolling.

– What do you want to play? 

The eye is keeping you busy, that’s smart, but you feel chest pain, that’s terrible. 

You close and open your mouth a few times and try to calm your breathing. None of this makes sense.

– Drink! Yes, thank you. You would say if you could speak, but you are so thirsty and… fucked up. You can’t. You just drink it and try to look thankfully in the eye. 

– What do you want to play? asks the girl who used to be the pupils and the eye, opening the window of her attic room and lighting the cigarette.

You swallow the last sip of the water from the glass, and you see your best friend. The fact that she is around is comforting. But you still know that you are going to die and whatever you do in the meantime won’t make any sense. But you have to do something. This is like an anxious childhood dream. When will it be over?

You open your mouth again, but no sound comes out.

– Chill out, I’m here, I won’t let anything bad happen to you, trust me, she says, and she touches your hand.

– Mancala, you answer. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s beautiful.

– All right, she says. She starts to prepare the game for the two of you and gives you the cigarette. You look out the window as you exhale the smoke. You see the beauty of the cityscape, but it doesn’t affect you as it usually does, because now you know that it doesn’t make sense.

– Come on, let’s pla, says your best friend, with her eyes smiling at you. The pupils inside those eyes the pupils seem to overflow past the white of the eyeball, the ink of the pupils is almost dripping onto her face. Fuck, this is scary. And none of it makes any fucking sense. 

You sit down and stare at the board with the small pebbles in it…

You sink your right hand into it as you inhale the smoke of the cigarette and pass the cigarette to your best friend with your other hand. You’re praying for this depressing half-dream to end so that you can wake up on another plane of existence.