I took a random road trip last summer with Carla to Canada. We went on a mini vacation to Niagara Falls. While we were there, we did some random things such as watching The Prince Of The Air (very dramatic and also very botoxed) walk on a tightrope up in the sky and witnessing the Breakfast Nazi freak-control the dining area at our hotel. It would not have been complete without our trip to the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not museum.

As we went through the museum, we, of course, witnessed two-headed animals of all kinds, the tallest man, the fattest man, a lot of other grotesque men with strange characteristical oddities, and a graveyard full of fun facts. One of the best (and most nausiating) parts though was the dizzy, light tunnel.

To get into the next room of the museum, we had to walk through a tunnel. The problem was that there were a bunch of neon lights on the walls, ceiling, and floor of the tunnel, circling in a clockwise direction (also accompanied by crazy, circus-like music). As soon as we stepped into the tunnel, our equilibrium was thrown off because of the lights swirling around us and we lunged sideways to try to stand up straight.

It was one of the strangest feelings in the world. In my mind, I knew that I was falling over sideways and the only thing keeping me from hitting the floor was the railing, which I was clinging onto for dear life to keep from toppling over, but my body knew that I could’ve just walked straight through the tunnel on the bridge. There was no controlling it though. If I closed my eyes, I could walk straight with no problems, but the second that I opened my eyes, my whole brain was pitched about by the phsycodelic lights and my body followed suit.

Sometimes when I think that life is too rough, I imagine myself in the tunnel again and I know that sometimes it’s just safer to walk with my eyes closed.