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After four months in Byron Tony had realized it wasn’t quite the progressive ‘utopia’ as he’d first thought, and new-age had turned out to be almost no-wage, so, while he continued to do his best to find a real job he spent each morning picking passionfruits on the farm where he and his girlfriend rented a converted milk bails.
One rainy morning he complained about the meager remuneration for the backbreaking labor but was told that he should be grateful for the job because back packers worked for just four dollars an hour. Tony left, but his girlfriend stayed with the woman who owned the place. Apparently they’d been having a lesbian affair for a week already.
Suddenly Tony was jobless, homeless, and girlfriendless, and after a late night during which he spent the last of his money, he rode out of town on his motorbike, so depressed he just wanted to end it all.
He finally found an old shed in a paddock down a dirt track, parked his bike and when into the shed to hang himself with his leg rope. Within a few minutes he’d secured the rubber noose around his neck and stepped off a box.
As Tony dropped his life went spiraling out into the starscape. Pulsations of clean non-sound swept him, and then, complete silence…. Stillness, until Tony opened his eyes and saw that he was in a beautiful geometrical garden where there were bees and butterflies and cypresses reaching toward the sun. He felt as if he was almost floating on dynamic vibrations. The aroma from the flowers was intoxicating, and he unconsciously asked, “Where is God?” An arrow made from ribbon blew past him very slowly, rolling and rippling like a sea snake, and Tony followed it into a maze shaped from hedges. He drifted and then stumbled around in there four days until he died again from thirst, but, at the final gasp of breath Tony’s stream of consciousness instantly recommenced.
White birds flew across the fulsome face of a brilliant moon below which Tony was skating on a frozen circular pond with a lovely girl wearing a short pleated skirt that flared out from her body; and shimmering silver tights that didn’t. Tequila and lemonade snowflakes showered down from fluorescent clouds as they skated in ever decreasing circles, spinning around and around looking into each other’s cavenous eyes, until they reached the center of the pond where Tony fell through the less-formed ice and plunged deep into the diamond green water.
Coming back up to the underside of the transparent ice sheet he could see his former partner leaning forward, her pinkish face peering down at him between the palms of her hands pressed onto the ice and he could see the tiny circles her warm tears were making on the clear ice, but he couldn’t find the way to get back out in the minute before his bubbles and struggling ceased.
The next time Tony 'awoke’ he was on a strange savannah covered with golden grass. A large number of brightly colored goat-sized animals began gathering around him. They were playful, but each showed sharp little teeth when they smiled, and when he ran they chased him, and some of them bit him enough to make his legs and buttocks bleed. He ran faster and faster until he was jammed on three hundred and thirty three kilometers per hour with a throbbing bum but no matter how fast he ran when the sun went down he could still see the lights of their eyes like tens of thousands of tiny torches chasing after him until he finally  ran off the edge of an enormous chasm and fell through space for hours down toward a smoking mouth until he landed in it with just one leg that the mouth bit off and so much blood poured from the stump, he was soon an empty white bag.
Tony’s next world was full of hot sulfur pools and nothing much except baking heat that cooked his consciousness  like a vegetable stew. No longer able to move but strangely hyperconscious he experienced excruciating pain from the oven that surrounded his brain. He vacillated between choking strangulation and projectile vomiting, with lost sphincter control, as his body tremored, twitched, shook, jerked, and performed complex twisting motions while his skin blistered and peeled away from his red body. As soon as the meat was still, many little twelve-fingered people began building a boardwalk made from matchsticks. They were yabbering all the time, right outside his ears, as they erected scaffolding, and using ladders, climbed up to eat his ears.
It was hard to tell when Tony left that extra-reality and arrived in the next but he found himself ‘treading water’ in an ocean of vomit, menstrual discharge, miscarried fetuses and knotted intestines upon which bloated dead dogs floated, and frothed with microscopic but multitudinous bleeding eyeballs. Matt-black vulture-gulls cruised above.

It wasn’t just the stench that made Tony shed tears and scream into the thick cold air. He was terrified of drowning because he knew the next ‘world’ would be even worse, so he trod water ‘doggedly’ until the sky and then the air filled with flies that swarmed up his nostrils.
Still writhing, Tony came ‘alive again’ but that time his face had stretched out to become the arsehole of a 27 meter slimy lime-green reptile covered in thick black bristles sliding across the greasy surface of a stagnant swamp. Tony was witnessing the stippled slide-marks recede, and the ugly brute pursuing her.
“Hey man! Don’t try hanging yourself around here. You’ll freak someone out! Now get on that motorbike of yours, and piss off!”
Riding down the main road back toward town, with the lighthouse silhouetted against the early morning sky, Tony rolled the engine back to 4 grand and thought aloud, “I’ve realized things can always get worse!” and, adopting a freshly objective perspective, “Life doesn’t get much better than summer in Byron!”