What It Tastes Like To Be Sane

I lived at point A, and the destination was point B. As you can tell, it took a while, but I finally got there and rode my bike straight into the ocean. There’s quite a bit I could tell you about that journey, but I think I’ll save it for later. The instant I was immersed in water, in the same formal wear I’d been wearing for weeks, the neurosis died. Luckily for me I wasn’t going down with it. The instant it died, I was released. I was just left soggy and alone several thousand miles from home. So, I made the homeward journey, and upon arriving, continued life as normal, and decided that for the time being there were other means of coping with my failures. I played music, I wrote books. Anything that would exorcise my own built in neuroses worked for me. But, as I explained, in the span of four years, I relapsed.

  As I floated towards the moon, I understood that neurosis. I wanted to end my life, and I wanted to do it in a dramatic fashion. Even if nobody else was to see it, I wanted to satisfy my own creative longings, and do it to the best of my ability. I had failed at drowning and I had failed at blowing myself up. The cliché states that the third time is the charm, and while clichés tend to be pretty cliché, I think that they, like stereotypes, have a basis in some sort of truth, so I was willing to give it another shot. While I had had a minor life affirming moment the moment I entered space, I soon realized that I had nothing to go back to, or so I thought. Clear was one adjective that did not sum up my thoughts at that time. In fact, looking back, if I had been asked to fill out a job application in that moment, and they asked for one word to sum up myself, no synonym of intelligent was eligible for use. Only foolishness was to be found. But, in my mind, I just needed something more dangerous. I’d be at the moon soon. I could kill myself there. But I did want my body to rest forever, or at least until it finished decaying, in the waters of my home planet. I figured my odds of landing in water were pretty good if I jumped from the moon, as the majority of the Earth, as you know, is made of water. As far as I knew, nobody had ever survived jumping from the moon, but also as far as I knew, and I didn’t know very far at all, nobody else had ever jumped from the moon. But that was even better. I’d be the first. I’d be lauded for my creativity if I was discovered. To ensure that the whole story would be discovered, I resolved to buy a t shirt from the moon. Oh, this new plan was wonderful. These failures were all the work of Serendipity, that sly wench.

  So I jumped, as planned. Up until now, everything had gone as I had wanted, but then I got in the way. I had the epiphany that perhaps it would be nice to continue living. That there might be solace in death, but it’d be awfully boring. If I kept living I could at least garner a reputation as a tortured artist, and maybe even get a place on the college speaking circuit, for having done something so outrageous as having jumped from the moon, plus being the first person not sponsored by the government to make it to the moon. There was no way I could survive as I was, and so I adopted my current form, and so conveniently for you, won your championship. Now, here I am: a floating basketball, levitating and telling you my stories. Life really wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be. For some reason when things weren’t going as I desired I focused on the negatives, and it seems like they found their way into the story more than the positives. Oh well, none of it can be undone.”

  Only four people prior to Bari had ever transformed into basketballs. He did not know this. It wasn’t a well-documented subject. Two of them changed back eventually. The two that didn’t stayed basketballs of their own volition. Human life isn’t for everyone, but if it is for you and you’re stuck as a basketball, there were ways to change back. However, neither Bari nor Arthur knew any of them. This is what they did know, based on the information that they had compiled from Bari’s story and from what Arthur had told Bari of his own predicament when they had held discourse earlier.

  On Bari’s end of things, he decided that he’d like to be human again. He didn’t particularly enjoy basketball-ness, and though he didn’t particularly enjoy humanity, it seemed like it’d be a worthwhile move to go back. He figured he had a better chance of learning to enjoy humanity than basketball-ness-anity. He briefly considered an attempt at becoming part basketball, part human, but he had seen a documentary once about people that were born part basketball, and they tended to be miserable, never being accepted into either society, except as circus freaks.

  Now, let us give Arthur’s point of view. The pinnacle of his tenure in this town was over. There was nothing more for him here, but he did want to live and get a chance to explore the rest of the world. He had won the BIG GAME for his team. SPORTS! His prom, the supposed best night of his life, had passed, with disappointment equal to Bari’s. At this point he was guaranteed invitations to play basketball at a plethora of top-notch schools, but if he took that road it was also a sure shot that he would be exposed as a fraud, or a one hit wonder. If it came down to it, the chances were minimal he’d actually make another shot to win the BIG GAME. In fact, the chances were minimal that he’d make another shot. Actually, that comparison was a bit harsh. He wasn’t a bad player. Just mediocre, especially for someone on the team. He was better than most people not on the team. And there weren’t that many people on the team. So he was better than most. Only once he got to the higher levels he’d be playing much tougher the teams and odds were high he’d let his the team down. His fall from grace would not be a worthwhile exchange for the short time he would get to spend as a DEPORTES hero. BALENCESTO! Thinking about it now, the word Balencesto sounds like it could potentially be the name of a magic trick. Possibly a cheesy one, but a magic trick nonetheless. No quantity of cheese could spoil magic. It’d probably just enhance it, like it does the flavor of a pizza. Recently, Arthur’s family had all been transformed into sea urchins, and he was left alone in the house. While the prospect of having a house that was all his was inviting, he had no means of keeping up with the bills, and the only way he could afford college would be a full basketball scholarship. We’ve already discussed what would probably happen if he ended up facing premier basketball teams, so I decided that I would put some ideas into Bari’s head.

  “Hey Arthur” he said. “Balencesto.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because it sounds like a magic trick. Magico!”

  Since Arthur agreed that balencesto could indeed be a magic trick, their agreement led it to become one. The trick was this: it put an idea in their collective consciousness.

  And so suddenly they knew how Bari would once again become human and how Arthur would be able to discover an honest and fulfilling life. Off they headed to the nearest enchanted forest.

  Swoop!