"Okay, what the fuck was that?"  Mason asked while cracking a cigar down the

middle.  There was about a gram of weed broken up into small buds sitting inside

a twenty dollar bill.  Mason dumped the tobacco out of the cigar into his hand,

rolled down the window, and threw it out the window.  He rolled the window

back up and looked over at Po.

Po seemed to be in his own little world.  He did not seemed effected by Mason's

question.  Then he spoke.  

"That was the Juice Lee.  My nigga Gunn put me on to that one.  The Juice Lee is

the avatar that you use for talking with white people who are the police.  You say

shit like 'You're not going to hurt me are you?' or 'I understand that you're just

doing your job.'  There was like ten other things that go into that avatar, and I'm

sure there's more now, but it basically saves your ass from dealing with police."

The word 'avatar' changed the entire perspective of what Po was saying.  He was

producing a character version of himself.  Mason was already familiar with this

concept, but he never thought to use the word 'avatar' to describe it.  

"So you have an avatar?"  Mason asked.

"Shit, we got dozens of avatars, nigga.  It's just a matter of mastering the avatars

and using supreme acting.  There's Smith."

"Hold on," Mason said.  "Who the fuck is Smith?  Why do you keep talking about

Smith?"  

"Because Smith is the most ruthless motherfucker in the universe.  Take that bible

out of the glove compartment and go to Isaiah 54:16."

Mason opened the glove compartment and noticed that it was completely empty

other than an a bible that was about seven inches long.  As he started to flip

through the pages, he realized that he had no idea where the Book of Isaiah was.  

He kept flipping through the pages until he found the words "Isaiah 7".  Mason

kept flipping chapter after chapter until he arrived at 57:16.  He read it:

"Behold, I have created the smith that bloweth the coals in the fire, and that

bringeth forth an instrument for his work; and I have created the waster to

destroy."

"That was Agent Smith's liscense plate in the movie, the Matrix," Po explained.  

"Now the muslims have this shit that's called the jinn.  It's the unseen spirits that are

made from smokeless fire.  They fuck with shit.  That's what they do.  That's why

people say 'Gin makes you sin'.  But it can also be pronounced like the word

'gene', like "genie", as in your genes, or the unseen  force that propel you to

behave the way that you do.  There's a lot of unseen forces moving through this

bitch, and if you don't understand them, then you fall victim to them.   You follow

me?"  

Mason nodded.

"A frog in the microwave won 't know that it's being microwaved or cooked.  Just

like when you put a hot dog in the microwave, you can't actually see the waves

going into the food and cooking that shit, but you know that there is an unseen

wave of energy going into that food and making it cook.  Or if we are both on our

cell phones.  We can't actually see the air wave that are connecting the call, but we

know that they are there.  If you take this pill called "DMT", it will actually show

you all of those waves, amongst a bunch of other wild shit. Are you following me?"

Mason looked down at his phone for no reason.  "Kinda," he replied.

"Okay, put it like this, when you're looking at somebody, you're not actually

looking at them speak to you or talk to you, or move around inside their body.  

There is an unseen force that makes that shit come alive.  But also built into that

same force is this motherfucker named Smith.  And he wants to bring everything

into a realm of chaos."

"Chaos?" Mason asked while licking the blunt.

"Yeah, chaos.  Unpredictablity.  Shit falling over, breaking and crashing.  People

screaming at each other, fighting, not being able to control their emotions.  

Distractions, a million texts messages, emails, phone calls, confusion."

Just as Mason started to understand what Po was saying, his phone rang.  He

looked down and noticed Sarah's phone number.

"That's female, right?"  Po asked in such a way that it felt like he was inside of

Mason's thoughts.

Mason laughed in shock.  "How did you know it was a female?"

"Because they are the biggest agents.  They use them as portals."

Mason felt the urge to answer the phone, but something told him not to.  All of a

sudden he was overcome with a familiar feeling.  He had dreamed this exact

moment before.  He was sure of it this time, not like the last time when he saw

Horace walking out of the gas station yesterday.  What he even found more

stranger than that was he remembered in the dream that he had also thought back

to the other moment of deja vu with Horace.  He remembered Po.  The way that

he was sitting in the car.  The gravity in his voice.  The way it sounded in the car.  

There was an ornament of a fancy bird that hung from his review mirror that read:

Ma'at

Mason started to feel like everything was happening in slow motion and echoing

within itself.  He was starting to understand what Po was saying a a lot easier.  

"What do you mean portals?"

"Like right now, I just shifted the frequency in your brain, which cracked the

calcification in your pineal gland.  The local ELF tower picked up that frequency

through your phone.  In turn, it will send another frequency to certain people in

your phone's phone.  That frequency will unconsciously tell them to pick up the

phone and call you."

Mason thought that this concept was absurd until his phone rang again, and he

looked down and saw Jasmine's name.  He quickly picked up the phone.

"What's up, bay?"

"Bay, I was just calling to tell you that Sarah keeps calling my phone wanting to

speak with you.  You really should call her because it seems important."

"Okay, baby, I'm going to do that right now," Mason replied.  He hung up the

phone and began to dial Sarah's phone number.  Fuck it, I might as well get this

over with.

"Did you not, just see what the fuck just happened, nigga?"  Po asked while

lighting another cigarette.

Mason had a feeling like he had already done this before.  Somehow, he already

knew what was happening, but he felt like it didn't matter because he could decide

to apply this to his life at any point he wished.  "Yeah, but that was my girl.  She's

not an agent."

Po laughed.  "Nigga, anybody who don't know the real knowledge is potentially

an agent.  Teachers, preachers, school teachers, businessmen, whatever.  Your

mom is an agent.  Your entire family is full of agents.  People who stand around

and talk about basketball, pussy, weed, and liquor are agents.  People who stand

around all day and don't even mention God are agents.  People who distract you

from learning the real knowledge are agents.  Agents of chaos.  The earth naturally

wants to return to chaos."

At that very moment, traffic came to a complete halt.  All the lanes became filled

with red lights.  Horns began blaring, and people began hollering and swearing out

of their windows.  Some people let out loud moans.  He could hear a car not too

far in the distance that had a familiar bass rhythm exuding from it.  Although he

couldn't hear the exact words to the song, he could feel the rhythm of the bass.  

He knew exactly what song it was and what part of the song was playing.

"A yo, it's poison.  Extacy, coke, you say it's love but it's poison.
School's where I learn, it should be burned, and it's poison.
Physicians perscripting us medicine, which is poison.
Doctor's injecting our infants with the poison.
Religion misoverstood is poison.  Radio and tv poison.
White Jesus, poison.  And any thoughts of taking me down is posion.
Who want beef now?  My heat shall annoint them.  Pow!"

Mason looked to his right and saw a black Mercedez Benz coming to a stop.  As

the car slowed down, the window lowered, exposing a man that appeared to be

of Spanish descent.  He began to toss bags and empty cups out of the window.  

As they hit the ground, Mason noticed small bags of salt, sugar, cream, and

napkins blowing in the wind and were crushed under the tires of oncoming traffic.  

Mason felt a chill go down his spine.  He was sure that he already had dreamed

this before.  But it was so long ago that it amazed him that he could remember a

dream so old.  He must have only been six or seven years old when he had

dreamed this moment.  Goosbumps started to grown on his arms.

"If you don't get a haircut, it looks fucked up.  You don't clean your house, it gets

fucked up.  You don't wash your ass, you stink and that's fucked up.  That's

chaos.  The only thing that can stop the world from returning to chaos is Ma'at.  

Divine law.  Knowing that a chaotic situation was put in front of you, so that you

can operate with the true knowledge, and bring light to a dark situation.  

Everything doesn't happen for a reason.  You are the reason why everything

happens.  You're like a torch in the darkness.  That's why the Statue of Liberty is

holding a torch.  Just like the woman at the beginning of all the Colombia movies.  

Bring light to a dark situation."

Mason was beginning to understand.  "Man this is like deja vu, or something.  I

know I dreamed this before, but it was so long ago, that you probably think I'm

crazy."

"Hell naw I don't think you crazy fool.  Everybody gets introduced into the

knowledge at some point in their life.  But eventually you line yourself up with the

chaos and put yourself to sleep.  That's what we call 'acceptance of the chaos'.  

When you push all the infinite knowledge aside in order to chase something

tangible, that one day is going to die."
+

At that moment, Mason noticed the pipe on a truck open up and let out black

smoke that filled the air.  A few seconds later, he noticed a bird fly over the same

truck and a white substance dropped from the birds behind, landing all over the

truck's windshield.

Behind the truck, he noticed a green Saturn being driven by a man sitting next to

his wife.  There was a baby crying in the backseat and the mother was tending to

the baby.

For some reason, he was seeing a higher meaning in all of this.  It didn't quite

make sense, but it felt like a movie being played out right in front of his very eyes.  

"We accept the chaos because we are afraid of the synchronicity of truth.  We fear

our own strength."

For some reason, these words struck a chord in Mason's nerves.  Normally, that

would have made no sense to Mason at all, but for some reason, it made sense

right now.  But he wanted a deeper meaning.  "Synchronicity?"

"Synchronicity is the underlying meaning behind all 'coincidences'.  Shit that you

think just so happened, but it has a bigger purpose in your life.  Especially when all

bad works for the good.  Like right after you go through a bad experience, then all

sorts of good things start happening to you.  Or when you go through a good

experience, then all sorts of bad things start happening.  All that type of shit is

called synchronicity.  Or like when people say 'speak of the devil'.  Like we could

be talking about Lil Wayne, then all of a sudden, he pops up.  That's

synchronicity."

"So what's the purpose of synchronicity?"  Mason asked.

"Guides us on our path.  It shows you that there is indeed a path, and whether you

are on the right path or not.  Whether or not you're distracted.  If you on bullshit

or not.  Through synchronicity, you can  see the past, future, heaven, hell, and all

that shit at the same time.  You'll know what makes people sick, what makes them

happy, and exactly what words to use in order to produce the exact outcome that

you like.  But when you accept chaos, you choose not to see synchronicity."

Mason heard a siren approaching.  Traffic moved forward about ten feet, then two

ambulances appeared in the rear view mirror.  As they approached, cars began to

pull over to the side to let them through.  Traffic wasn't going anywhere.  

As Po moved closer to the red Ford Taurus next to him, Mason noticed two

women in the car.  The passenger appeared to be rolling a blunt.  She was white,

with fiery red hair that went right past her shoulders.  When she noticed Mason

looking at her, she smiled and lowered the blunt.  She put her thumb and index

finger together, leaving her other three fingers to stand at attention.  She put her

fingers up to her mouth as if she was taking a hit from a joint.  She smiled and

whispered something to the driver.  

Mason sat up in his chair and nodded his head to the two girls.  Po was still

talking, but Mason couldn't really hear the words coming out of his mouth.  

 
Clouds began to block out the sun and the highway appeared darker.  Mason did

not notice any of this, as his eyes were focused on the females in the red Taurus.  I

bet I could fuck both of them, he thought.

"Are you listening to me, Mason?" Po asked.  "Or are you looking at the chicks in

the red Taurus?"

Mason felt a shift in his mind, as the familiar words echoed through his head.  He

had heard that before, but he didn't know where.  "I was just looking," he said.

"Look again," Po said.

As Mason began to look, his phone rang again.  He looked down and saw a

phone number that he had not seen in months.  It was Delila, a girl who he

stopped talking to after Jasmine found naked pictures of her in Mason's phone.  

He told her to stop calling and she did.  On some lonely drunk nights, Mason got

desperate and called once or twice.  She never picked up.  She just so happened

to call right now.

Mason answered the phone.  "What's up girl?"

"Hey, boy how have you been?"  Delila asked.

Po shook his head and lit a cigarette.  He focused on his path.

"Shit, I've been waiting on you to call me.  Now I'm better."  Mason looked over

into the red Taurus again and smiled.  

The two girls laughed and looked at each other and began speaking back and

forth.

"You sleeping, nigga," Po said.

Mason felt a nerve get hot.  Why did Po have to keep trying to control him?  It

was as if Mason didn't completely obey everything that Po was saying, then Po

would have something to criticize him about.  "I ain't sleep, nigga."  Mason replied.

Mason turned back and looked at the girls who were now ignoring him.  He

continued his conversation with Delila.  "So what have you been up to?  When am

I going to get to see you?"

"I don't know, because last time we talked you were talking about, 'Please don't

call me anymore.  My girl is more important to me than any woman bla bla bla.'"

Mason laughed.  He looked over into the red Taurus again.  Their lane was not

moving.  Po's lane began to move, leaving the red Taurus in the distance.  "Well,

that wasn't my fault."

Delila got quiet for a few seconds as an awkward pause came over the phone.  

Then she spoke.  "I don't know what made me think of you right now.  I just

wanted to call and see what you've been up to.  Whether or not you're still with

your girl."

Mason swallowed.  "Who I'm with has nothing to do with me and you.  I think

about you from time to time, too."

Mason realized that he was lying.  As Delila began to speak again, Mason noticed

that he was beginning to feel an urge to hang up the phone.  Why was he talking to

this girl?  He really didn't even like her anymore.  He felt a part of himself telling

him that it was the manly and masculine thing to do, but it felt like a lie.  Why was

talking to her right now so important?  Was it because he felt like running away

from what Po was saying?  

Mason cut Delila off in the middle of her sentence.  "My phone is about to die, let

me call you back."

There was a pause.  "Okay," she replied.  

Mason hung up the phone and stared out of the window.  He felt the urge to look

for the red Taurus again, and he tried to ignore it.  Suddenly he felt like he was

trapped.  Po was right.  He couldn't control his urges.  He did not like this idea at

all.  He realized that he had just made a fool of himself in front of Po.  

Mason's phone rang yet again.  He looked into the phone and saw a familiar 1-

800 number.  It was a bill collector.  They called at least once or twice a week.  

Mason did what he always does.  He ignored the call, but he also felt

overwhelmed by what was happening.  His phone would not stop ringing.  He was

being bombarded with distractions.  This was too much coincidence.  

Mason swallowed hard and looked over at Po.  Po was looking straight ahead,

smoking a cigarette.  Mason cleared his throat and asked, "Man how long have

you known this for?"

Po answered almost instantaneously.  "All my life.  But I've only been able to

verbalize it for the past six years.  It's hard to actually put these words into

sentences that flow like poetry.  Many of my friends went crazy behind this

information.  Some of them got put in mental institutions.  That's what we called

the Madden Lit."

"How are you able to deal knowing all this information?"

"All I do is sit back and watch shit.  The natural urge is to try to react.  But I don't

let shit put me on the spot.  I just remember that this is just a moment passing in

time.  You can't really demonstrate Godlike behavior.  It's revealed.  The more I

talk to you about God, the more you're going to try to judge me to see how

congruent I am with the Word.  But if I just sit back and move in a Godlike

manner, then I will reveal to you what God looks like.  Get it?"

Mason swallowed and realized that he was not breathing.  He exhaled, then

yawned.  He felt himself getting very tired again.  
 
"You ever see the movie Limitless?"  Po asked while flicking his cigarette butt out

the window.

"No," Mason asked.  "Why do you keep asking me if-"

Po cut Mason off, "At the end of Limitless, the guy tells Robert Deniro that the van

is going to hit the taxi.  That's exactly what's about to happen right now."

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and crunch sound coming from the other lane.  

Mason looked over into the lane and saw a van rear-end a taxi.  This caused the

entire lane to stop moving completely, and people began honking their horns.  Po's

lane continued to slowly roll foward, as Mason stared out of his window into the

chaos.  The drivers began to get out of their vehicles and start cursing at each

other.  The taxi cab driver was on the phone, still hollering at the man in the van.  

Mason shook his head, as he came to the realization of what Po just said.  

"How did you know that the van was going to hit the cab?"

Po chuckled.  "He was distracted.  Actually, they both were.  The taxi cab driver

was on the phone, so he didn't realize that he kept pressing the brake too hard.  

He was stopping too fast.  The dude in the van was watching you interact with the

white girls in the red Taurus.  Just like in the movie, only difference is that in the

movie, the guy in the van was on the phone."

"Why do you keep talking about movies?  Movies are fake.  This is real life."

"Yeah, but some movies aren't just movies.  They are symbols.  Some movies have

no point.  But the ones that do, we forget or don't even realize.  You see, some

concepts can't be verbalized.  So we use symbols to communicate the meaning.  

One of the best ways to communicate a symbol is through a movie.  You forget

that when you watch a movie, you're watching something that started out as an

idea, which is unseen.  The idea became words on a paper.  The words on the

paper became the movie.  So you are watching something unseen become seen.  

You're watching someone's idea play out right in front of you.  Like, if I tried to tell

you that there is guy named Smith, who is taking over everything and everyone in

this world, you wouldn't believe me, but if I could turn it into a story, then turn the

story into a movie, you would believe the myth.  That's what makes it real."

The idea sounded so simple to Mason, but for some reason, he could not accept

what Po was saying.  "So you're saying movies are real?"

"Of course not.  But the myth is.  Put it like this.  Look at your self from two

angles.  The conscious, and the unconcious.  The conscious looks at everything

logical and how the universe is conrolled by the laws of physics."

Mason cut Po off.  "Hold on, slow down.  I don't even understand what the fuck

you just said.  Go back."

Po scratched his head.  "To where?"

"Repeat back that last thing you just said."

"Well, there's the conscious and the unconscious.  The conscious realm is logical.  

That's the left part of the brain.  It puts things in order.  It tells you what's 'real' and

what's not.  So, for example, if I told you that I could fly, then you're mind could

not logically process that thought.  It wouldn't make sense.  Right?"

Mason lit his blunt.  "Right."  He felt the urge to look for the red taurus and turn the

music up.  He ignored that urge.

"But if I told you that I had a dream that I was flying, well then your mind would

be able to process the thought more, even though logically, it didn't make sense.  

Anything is possible in the subconscious realm.  The subconscious realm builds the

conscious realm.  You are a creator of universes in both realms.  So why try to

limit yourself to either realm?"

Suddenly, Mason felt a surge of realization.  He had an epiphany.  He already

knew all of this, but he had never heard it spoken so poetically.  All of his dreams

suddenly made sense.  He saw himself standing between two worlds inside of his

head.  One world was full of infinite possibilities.  The other world was limited to

what he could taste, touch, smell, hear, and see.  The conscious world was

building the unconscious world.  But the unconcious world was also building the

conscious world.  

"When you go to sleep, that's actually the real world," Po said.  These words

echoed through Mason's ears.  Mason felt like he was being hypnotized.  But he

was no longer resisting.  It all made sense.  It was as if God had lined up this entire

moment for him to hear this.

"That actually makes perfect sense," Mason said.

"I know, nigga, cause it's the truth," Po remarked while taking another cigarette out

of the box in his pocket.  Sleep is the real world.  Everybody sleeps.  Everybody

dreams.  But nobody even knows why.  You don't really appreciate sleep until you

can't get it."

Po lit his cigarette and put his lighter back into his pocket.  Mason wasn't sure, but

it seemed like Po's lighter was an egyptian mummy.  "I see you're into the Egypt

thing."

Po shook his head.  "The word 'Egyptian' is bullshit.  It's called 'Kemet'.  That's

what Egyptian is really supposed to be called.  As a matter of fact, that's where the

word 'chemistry' comes from.  But chemistry just isn't the shit you study in a lab.  

Chemistry is also the unseen force between two people.  Like the chemistry

between you and your woman.  You can't see it, but you know it's there."

Mason had realization that he was forgetting information just as fast as Po kept

introducing new information.  He was going to say something to Po, but

completely forgot what it was.  All he could say was, "Right."

Po quickly changed lanes and began driving on the shoulder.  This took Mason by

surprise.  Mason began looking around for cops.  "Nigga, what is you doing?"

Po uttered something to himself about Smith, then proceeded to get off at the next

ramp.  As he drove up the ramp, Mason noticed how good the breeze felt.  It was

starting to get hot outside, but he hadn't even noticed until the breeze hit him.  

"I'm going to take the street," Po said.  "But I'm going to get some gas first."

As Po drove through the neighborhood, Mason noticed that there were not too

many black people to be seen.  It seemed like a nice suburb that didn't have much

action.  

"I could never live here," Mason said to himself.  "That Ace Hardware store seems

like the highlight of the city."  

As Mason pointed to the large Ace Hardware store that had a full parking lot, Po

began to point as well.  

"Nigga, you see the pyramid and eye in the logo?"  Po asked, while trying to keep

one hand on the wheel.  His cigarette was bouncing up and down in his mouth and

a few ashes fell to the floor.

Mason took a second look.  He saw a triangle that appeared three dimensional.  

The letter 'C' was written in a font that made it appear as if it were an eyeball

looking at the triangle.  Mason saw it, but he was beginning to think that Po crazy.

"Nigga, what's the point?"  Mason asked coldly.

"What do you mean, what's the point?"  Po asked.  "Why would you not want to

see something that's hidden in plain sight?  It's better to be able to see a hidden

meaning than not being able to see a hidden meaning.  You've got to look at it like

the creator made it."

This made no sense to Mason at all.  "What?"  Mason asked.

Po shook his head.  "Okay, put it like this.  Let's say you designed that logo.  Why

would you put a pyramid for the letter 'A'?  Why would you choose red for the

color?  Why would you use a letter 'C' that looks like an eyeball?"

Mason thought about this.  How the hell am I supposed to know why he designed

it the way he did?  "I don't know.  How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"Exactly," Po said.  "That's the hidden meaning.  You have to go into the

subconscious of the creator.  Try to see what he saw.  See it as if you made it.  

The details.  Look at it from the creator's subconscious.  And you will see God

trying to communicate with you.  God is always trying to communicate with you.  

You just have to choose to see it, instead of not see it.  God speaks through

creation.  We are God's creation, but we are also creators.  The creation is God

speaking through us when we create.  Look at that bird."

Po pointed to a bird that was sitting on top of a bus stop bench.  On the bench

was a Taco Bell ad that read:

"Think Outside the Bun. Open Late"

Mason looked at the bird.  He didn't notice anything special, but as soon as he

came to that conclusion, he started to see something.  The bird turned it's head

and looked directly at Mason.  This caught Mason off guard.  Mason noticed the

feather patterns on the bird.  It was as if every feather was put into a specific

pattern.  Mason had always seen this, but he never really noticed how beautiful a

bird was.

Po continued.  "Now say, you created that bird.  You would notice the patterns of

the feathers.  How each one lays out perfectly next to each other.  If you were

going to draw the bird, then you would notice the beauty in the creation.  Look at

the perfect patterns of feathers and colors which makes up that bird and imagine

that you had the power to create it."

Just as Mason started to have a deeper meaning of what Po was saying, Po

continued.  "Don't give in to the astonishment."

Mason snapped out of the trance.  "What?"

"Don't give in to the astonishment.  Don't say, 'Wow, that's crazy.'"

Mason shook his head in astonishment.  "Damn, that's crazy.  How did you know

that I was going to say, 'That's crazy?"

"Because, that's as far as that thought can go if you let it.  That's called 'giving in to

the astonishment.'  When you tweak out instead of paying attention to the patterns.

 Same shit when you get hit with some powerful synchrnocity, but the farthest your

mind can take that thought is, 'That's crazy.'  You don't realize that you're actually

making yourself crazy by saying that."

Mason's shoulders dropped and he exhaled.  "Damn, that's crazy."

Po chuckled.  "See."

Mason became confused.  "See what?"

"Nigga, you just said 'That's crazy.'"

Mason's eyes bulged.  "Damn, I did, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but what's even 'crazier' is that you said 'Damn, that's crazy' right after I

told you not to say 'Wow, that's crazy'."

Mason thought to himself and got confused.  He looked down at his phone for no

apparent reason.  "What?"

Po smiled.  "I told you not to give in to the astonishment.  Don't say, 'Wow, that's

crazy.'  Then you immediately said, 'Damn, that's crazy.  How did you know that I

was going to say, 'That's crazy?'"

Mason put his hand up to his head and tried to think back to a few seconds ago.  

He didn't remember saying 'That's crazy' immediately after Po told him not to.  

"No I didn't.  I asked you how did you know that I was going to say 'That's

crazy?'"

"Yeah but right before you asked me that, you said, 'Damn, that's crazy.'"

"No I didn't," Mason responded.

"Yes you did.  Immediately after I told you not to say 'Wow, that's crazy.'"

At that moment, Mason realized that Po was right.  But for some reason, he didn't

want to tell Po that he was right.  Po had been right this entire trip, and Mason felt

the urge to see how Po would respond when he was wrong.

"No," Mason said.  "I was saying that it was crazy that you knew that I was going

to say 'That's crazy.'  I wasn't saying that patterns bird's feather's were crazy."

"Right, I know," Po said.  "But the best way you could describe the fact that I

knew you were going to say 'That's crazy' is by saying 'That's crazy.'  Ain't that

crazy?"

They both began to laugh.  Mason felt good for that moment.  He was happy to

be learning the concepts that Po was teaching him.  He thought back to how he

found himself in this position.  Horus.  Right as Mason was about to ask Po how

he knew Horus, Po continued.

"You really don't hear white men say 'That's crazy', unless it's for an advertising

campaign or something.  But usually, they will say something like 'That's interesting'

or 'Good observation', but you don't hear them trying to go crazy every time

something 'new' happens.  Niggas are the only ones who run around and say

'That's crazy' all day."

Mason swallowed and continued to soak up this information.

"There's a hidden eye in the Taco Bell logo.  The yellow part is the retina.  The

purple part is the eyeball."

Mason looked closer at the Taco Bell logo.  He saw an eye inside the bell.  

"Okay, what's the point of me seeing that?"

"It's better to see than not to see it.  Now that you see it, you will never be able to

'unsee' it.  The point ain't to spook yourself out and give into the astonishment.  

The point ain't to get you to go crazy.  The point ain't to get you to be a conspiracy

theorist.  The point ain't to force you to see something a certain way.  The point is

whether or not you choose to see it.  But if you do see it, and you choose not to,

then you've handed your life over to something that is an illusion."

"How do I know that what you're showing me isn't an illusion?"  Mason asked.

"Good question.  This is the answer.  The knowledge that I am sharing with you is

the beginning of knowledge.  Some of the first concepts ever thought up.  Taco

Bell and Ace Hardware aren't even two hundred year concepts.  The concepts I

am explaining to you are some of the first concepts ever made.  So you tell me

which one is the illusion."

The car slowed down and Po turned into a gas station.  As Mason looked up to

see the gas prices, he noticed another triangle for the logo.  This triangle was

orange and appeared more three dimensional.  Under the triangle read the words:

"Citgo"

As Po pulled up to pump six, Mason noticed yet another triangle inside the logo of

the Infiniti JX.  This triangle was surrounded by a circle.  Po put the car in park

and turned it off.  Mason got out of the car and stretched.  A loud yawn came out

of his mouth.  As Mason walked up to the store door, an old lady walked out and

let the door close behind her.  She walked right past Mason as if she didn't even

see him.  When Mason walked in the store, the first thing he noticed was the

coffee section.  He couldn't help but notice that under the word:

"Folders"

there were three mountains all shaped like pyramids.  The sun seemed to be rising

from behind them.  Mason would have never noticed this before.  Mason walked

up to the counter.

"Hey can I get a pack of Newport shorts?"  Mason asked.

The old man behind the counter looked up at the cigarettes above his head and

pulled down a box of Newports.  When he rang up the price, Mason couldn't help

but notice that the cigarettes were significantly cheaper than when he buys them in

his neighborhood.  He was almost tempted to buy two packs before he got

distracted by the poster that was on the counter.  There was a picture of a ferris

wheel.  Mason noticed the triangle inside the ferris wheel.  It looked very similar to

the Infiniti logo.  The poster read:

"Heritage Festival
This weekend!  Live Music!  Rides!  Games!  Food!
8am-10pm Friday-Sunday"

Mason shook his head and thought back to when he was a kid.  He would have

done everything in his power to go.  Now he had no intrest.

He picked up his cigarettes and headed toward the door.  As he walked out the

door, he couldn't believe what he saw.  

It was the red Taurus.  The passenger was looking right at Mason, but she looked

away quickly and began speaking to the driver.  Mason smiled.  He looked for

Po, who was nowhere to be found.  The driver of the Taurus got out of the car

and walked over to the pump.  She swiped a credit card and began pressing

buttons.

Mason decided that if he was going to talk, he had to do it now.  The longer he

waited, the more awkward it would be.  He walked right up to the car.  The

passenger looked at him and rolled the window down.  She smiled.

Mason began to speak.  "If I ask you a question, will you tell me the truth?"

The girl nodded.

"Do I look like a drug dealer?"

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