Fifteen minutes into the climb Corrado was walking ahead of me when all of a sudden his entire body began to swirl and warp out of shape. He was at most a fuzzy blur when I focused intensely on him. Shapes, faces, rocks and animals appeared all over the ground, in every rock and in every footstep. My mind was melting like a Salvador Dali clock. I kicked up some leaves and recoiled as I watch them all turn into spiders and run across the trail only to turn back into leaves and gently slide down the nearby cliff.
As I stood back up to take off my rain jacket, I saw that Dennis was missing half of his body. His upper body divided in two and separated like limbs of tree. His lower half was just gone, entirely gone. What the hell was I staring at??? I stuffed my rain jacket in my pack and said out loud to myself, “FIGHT IT, FIGHT IT, NICK, FIGHT, DAMMIT, COME ON!”
Less than a kilometer from Rifugio Champillon, I was struck by a sudden onset of fatigue and sleep deprivation. My vision went blurry. I alerted Sean, who told me to keep pressing on but take several breathes through the nose. I did and it helped for a moment. But a minute later I found myself staring expressionless at an old man alongside the road who’d set up a table and was selling books. Was he real?
“Sean, did you see that old man there?” I looked back to the old man still sitting alongside his table.
“Nick!” Sean yelled out to me, “there is no old man! There is no one there! Just listen to the click of your poles, tick-tack, tick-tack stay present!”
Tick-tack, tick-tack, I brought myself back to ground. Back to the present, the old man vanished into the air. Sean was right. He never existed.
Nikademus Hollon - durante il Tor des Geants
Un video di Hollon in cui ha intervistato altri concorrenti parlando dei propri allucinazioni. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9GvFOr ... e=youtu.be
Il più bello al ottavo minuto - un ragazzo irlandese. Barack Obama e il "New World Order" completo di agenti segreti.