We ran out of water balloons and started throwing rocks. Sometimes we would get candy bars from the grocery store and I would get comic books and play fighting arcade games. I liked the Comic books. I think to me it was like, confirmation or proof of existence to the reality. A sign of reality,.. not me or "Something I was making up or imagining." There was a trace code, source code magnetic fields and fields of dreams, a secret world of Creation. A Record that testified. Like I'd see those books (the consciousness) and I'd know that that was What was real, and not so much thE... Extra circumstantial