To get the bacon, you must know the bacon. To know the bacon, you must be the bacon. To be the bacon is to be God.

Everyone must follow their own Dao to reach the bacon. Some people simply let their minds loose and just drift from one thought to another. Others focus on keeping a completely still mind to find a form of peace. All paths lead to bacon. Seated in a lotus pose on my bed, I meditate to find meaning, purpose, perhaps a calling. And after several minutes of searching the void, I finally reach a substantial conclusion that it is hard to meditate when you smell bacon being cooked.

Right now, I’m doing my best to concentrate on my breathing with my eyes closed, but the smell of sizzling succulent bacon being cooked is distracting me from understanding the void. It also doesn’t help that when someone focuses solely on not moving, an itch always has to pop up just asking to be scratched, but such are the obstacles required to be overcome in order to reach enlightenment.

It takes a few minutes of ignoring my senses, but something happens. I feel a warmth surrounding me. Several spots on my body that were itching seem to be growing in size. I can’t help but salivate as the smell of bacon gets stronger. Ohhh, that smell of bacon must be symbolic in that I’m on the right track. My subconscious is guiding me to the metaphorical bacon.

Although, the warmth...is oddly painful. In fact, it’s kind of getting hard to breathe too. Doesn’t matter, I can always hold my breath. Another symbolism - that growth requires pain or something. And oh boy, am I feeling a lot of growth now!

“SILAS!!! Awaken!” I hear yelling from across the room. “We need to escape! All of our belongings have been set ablaze!”

Oh, I get it now. This must be the heart trial that I’ve read so much about. All I’m hearing is an inner demon trying to break my cultivation. However, I am a being of pure willpower, unable to be stopped!

“Silas, I am unable to escape from my enclosure,” The inner demon continues wailing. However, I will not be broken. I can feel the soul being tempered as it tries to sway me. “Please! Please don’t ignore me, Silas! Forgive me for all I’ve done, just please let me out!”

This inner demon almost sounds like my best friend, Terry. This heart trial is incredibly realistic, I can practically hear tears falling down. Although I’d be lying if I wasn’t a smidge tempted to open my eyes to check. Hmm, although it's basically a 0.00000001% chance that I am actually in a fiery inferno that’s about to melt my face off, it wouldn’t hurt to test this inner demon and make sure he is just a subconscious persona. I ask aloud, “If you actually are Terry, can you prove it?”

A couple of seconds pass before I hear a response. “Do you recall your last meal?” I do. It was pretty good. They must have changed the way they preserved the blood. The preservatives made it a lot sweeter, almost like drinking honey. “...I shit in it.

...What? However, before I could verbally respond, the bloodshitter actually had more to say.

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“Whenever you received payment, I confiscated most of it while you weren't paying attention and dedicated it towards orphanages,” the thief continued. “And whenever a woman showed any affection towards you, I would send them letters describing how you imagined their blood would taste. And to those who found that attractive, I also gave a description of your condition 'down there' causing those to lose interest as well.”

I-Is this the reason why I’ve been single all this time? I always thought it was because of the immense mental scars that left me completely incapable of loving another being or because I invited their mothers to join us in the fun, but it all makes sense now. This also explains why my hundreds of drug debts have only been growing despite me working for decades. It’s all because of this damned rat with wings that I'm poor and lonely!

I finally open my eyes and see smoke has filled the room entirely. The good news is that my eyes can peer through the smoke, the bad news is that I can confirm that everything is in fact on fire. My 100% cotton pajamas are on fire, my decrepit and aged wooden floor and walls are on fire, and even my handmade paper mache birdcage is on fire.

Peering into my paper mache birdcage is an adult black raven ugly crying at me while yelling at me, “Free me!” As great as roasted raven sounds, burning to death is too damned good for it. Scrambling out my charred clothes, I can now feel the first, second, third, all the way to tenth degree burns I’ve accumulated. Gritting my teeth, I peel the clothes off myself ripping off sections of my own skin with it. Almost half of my remaining skin is burnt black and flaking off with my legs getting the worst of it showing only muscle tissue.

Now in my birthday suit, I struggle to walk to the birdcage, further adding to my blister collection, and decide to just punch through the paper cage to snatch Terry.

I manage to grab the bird, but he immediately tries breaking out of my grip. “Silas, halt! There are other options,” the thieving bloodshitting homewrecker tries to bargain, but I don’t give him the chance. I immediately open my maw and stuff him into my mouth, leaving his feet and tailfeather out. Then with a heavy crunch, I bite into him. “AHHHHHH,” he screams. His screams echoing within me.

Draining his vitality, I feel a cool relief wash over me. I can feel my skin quickly regrowing over my naked muscle fibers and the intense heat emanating from the flames becoming akin to a hot draft. With Terry safely contained and my hands free, I move to grab my other prized belongings. With my renewed strength, I pick up my bed and throw it to its side revealing a large wooden chest hidden underneath that has already caught fire.

With no time to waste on innuendos, I pick up the smoking hot chest and sprint to my bedroom door. The door is made of the same materials as the walls meaning two things: that I am terrible at interior design and it is also on fire. Leaving me no choice, I wield the chest ahead of me like a battering ram. For the first time today, I’m lucky as the chest manages to smash through the door with the only damage being the lid forced open and some scratches. As the door breaks into pieces, the hallway which leads to the main entrance and freedom is clear, if it wasn’t for the unexpected visitor who was on the other side of the door.

Now, while I was expecting the wooden shrapnel, the intruder clearly didn’t because they immediately let out an unholy shriek.

And so, in response, to a screaming, nude man with a raven stuffed in his mouth wielding a flaming chest, the intruder does what is only expected of them. The intruder quickly brings his hands together and a blast of water shoots out from him smashing into my face. With the water pushing my top half back and my feet still running forward, I easily lose my balance and fall onto my bare ass. So now, I'm tired, naked, angry, burned, AND wet.

All in all, not the worst way I've started the day.