"I'm not sure this is a good idea," Phil #1 said.
The two men walked along together through the VIP gate and on into the home of the Six Foot Rat.
"I can't see what the problem is," Phil #2 replied. "If you remember when we were at the therapist last time, after we did all that work on foundations-"
"Food equals death, vomiting equals death," Phil #1 intoned. "Hard to forget all that."
"Yes well after that, and after the... other stuff..." Here Phil #2 was eliding the subject of their dead sister. "We touched on the Other and the Shadow and on division of the self."
"Maybe that's what reawoke in me the idea for this sort of split narrative?" Phil #1 was looking for a table at the cafe where Walt Disney usually materialized. "I don't know. I can't see it being a good sign that Walt Disney now has to compete with you, me, for reality. There must be a finite amount of tulpa-energy in any one area and will you drain what he needs for him to appear to me?"
Phil #1 looked around.
Phil #2 had disappeared, winked out silently in an instant.
Sitting at his usual table, alone in the crowd, was Walt Disney. The smoke from his cigarette formed an elegant cirrus directly above the small aluminum NO SMOKING sign.
9/5/2016 4:11:27 AM
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