thisisallonewordpress

At some festival thisisalloneword is procuring some medication, some of those legal highs and also to stock up on normal meds, he needs some more of this hand cream that he keeps using, I wonder why? The guy running the store sure knows because he’s been producing these lotions and balms from a list of normal ingredients plus a few abnormal ones, highly addictive ones, which mean that sales of hand cream have been significantly higher of late.
Thisisalloneword will become mixed in with this shady character and very soon he is a part of the great swindle, although not for long because the very next day the store is raided and they all find themselves at the mercy of a corrupt police department – seemingly American – who will pocket takings and close us down. After a brief chase they corner thisisalloneword in a small warehouse room stuffed with counterfeit vinyl records (could this be a dream?) although there are some official ones there too, some valuable ones to boot.
Impending violence from the officials against our hapless wanderer causes something to happen. Something happens.

Two days earlier, maybe two, maybe three, not sure. Head shaken and thoughts checked, dust brushed from clothes, eyes adjusting to light, where is thisisalloneword now? Ah, the confusion of time travel, always clouds memories and tinkers around with your internal workings.
Thisisalloneword is in the store warehouse but back in time, he now has to prepare those working there, people he has never met in the grand time-scale plan of things, for the impending search warrant and legal difficulties. Stashes are moved, money is cleaned, customers are turned away, the word is put out that the place is legit. Customers, addicts, are sent packing with an extra bit of money and a stern ‘do not come back here for days’ speech that should mean they hook up elsewhere.

But who is thisisalloneword? He does not seem to be himself and has not been since his time travelling. He may well have taken over some one else from this episode – some minor character – and this is why his appearance has not caused certain levels of confusion.

Anyway, strategies are playing themselves out and the key players have been told that the raid is inevitable and they do not know how thisisalloneword knows this, and he can not tell them (who would believe him?) but they trust, to an extent. The police have been delayed but they will strike soon, and hard, maybe the preparation and elaborate misdirection has only made things worse, maybe it antagonised them.

Thisisalloneword is now someone else… the boss? And we have a third person, rather than first person view of him. He is older, 60s I think, he is being cornered by the police and so he will fight back, but not yet, first he needs to get to a safe house where there are firearms stashed. Across the park from the warehouse everything starts resembling a Grand Theft Auto game, a large automatic weapon is located and then the camera pan up from a third person view of thisisalloneword to a birds eye view of the city map. The city plan schematics of buildings change colour from grey to yellow to indicate the police closing in, the noose tightening.
There is a way through, but not for long, everything is getting very close, he makes his way through a building, snaking through secret corridors out of windows, across alleyways and courtyards until suddenly he is trapped. Gunfire! He turns and cuts down a few of the enemy but there are a lot of them. Has he been hit? Something has happened; senses are failing…

…the alleyway becomes… softer… we turn from gangster film into Dada farce… thisisalloneword falls and lies down, but not on hard concrete but on a soft belly of a polar bear which sits up suddenly and thisisalloneword is flung upwards landing on the dazed bear again while penguins and other zoo animals begin raining from the sky. So this is how it ends, ey? A fitting ending? A satisfactory conclusion?