Today we join Chit Lebaron and his guide Mobutu as they voyage into the secret pyramid of the tree jungle.
We have been in the shit before but this has got to be the worst of it. Worse than the Turkish prison. Worse than papercut alley. Worse than Mobutu’s sister’s play.
We are lost in the pyramid. It’s quiet enough to think here, in the deepest, darkest, depths. Too quiet. Down here you can hear your own deepest darkest depths. Parts of yourself you never knew existed, a side you didn’t know you had. It’s getting to me. Two me. Tomb me. I am in my tomb. This is my tomb. I will die here.
Mobutu is being a complete baboon, as usual. He only let me bring one Archie and he insisted I leave all the rocks I found along the way. Well, he said I could pick ten rocks and the rest I would have to carry myself which is in essence telling me that I can have no rocks because ten is barely enough and he knows I am not carrying my own. So in protest of his fascist loophole I pointed to a boulder and said that was one rock and he had to carry it and he said he wouldn’t and we haven’t spoken a word since. Well he hasn’t. I have been pointing out every cool rock that I’ve seen and I have also slipped a few in his bag when he wasn’t looking. The rocks of note so far are one brown beauty that is almost a triangle and a classic grey circle rock that has a chip and it looks like it’s winking.
Mobutu claims to have found an exit that will free us but it requires two men to lift a log that is blocking it and I think we can do better. I’m hopeful that an option that only needs one guy to get dirty, or is magic, will present itself. Until then I can only wait. I’m giving this letter to a big bug, I pray it finds you well.