About a day and a half ago I left the trail and got lost.
Not stuck on an island with an insane smoke demon sort of lost. Almost as bad though. I’m in the middle of a rainforest which has the most reports of fatal drop bear attacks in the world.
There is no reception, so I am writing this on paper and hoping to transfer it to a digital form when I have survived (if you read this, hey! It means I’m okay now!). I’m starving, I’m cold, and I hate the stupid mozzies.
Worse, for the last few hours I’ve been hearing singing. Long, drawn out sirens through the trees, as persistent and as hidden as buzzed out cicadas.
I’ve recorded the music, and it is disturbing when you are a lone, young and vulnerable man stuck in the middle of the woods.
The voices are scattered through the bush. I’ve been walking towards the noise but it proves impossible to track. When I get near the source of a voice it stops and I walk towards another voice without realising until it is too late. So I’ve been walking in circles.
I almost didn’t pay attention to my bearings, and I nearly fell off a cliff. One of my cages fell crashing down a hundred metres. The voices stopped a few minutes. I could imagine the malevolent thoughts surrounding me, wondering why I had disturbed them.
But they started singing again. It’s the same song, and they sing it over and over again.
The bush voices are singing Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy.
QUEEN?!? And where the hell is the piano?
It makes no sense whatsoever.
It’s disturbing when you’re alone in the bush at night – with no tent cause you forgot to pack one – searching for drop bears, hearing tributes to Freddie Mercury in the dark. In a campy gothic sort of way.
And I am freaked out. In the context, this is one of the scariest songs I could be hearing.