holly double double brain fuck...swear to god, just been shot out of a cannon...space cadet on another plane, out of plane...
so far out there on the edge of it, at its tippy tip tip and its peak...on the death trip, doing the cosmic
death trip, hurricane across the time line.... so far gone gone world turned on its side
totally fucking bizzar...a brain fuck
and so god dammed seamless
the company says to groove
but we are high off our rockers
too high for grooving
whats the use
in the double deep shit
where the waters part
the eye of god is in your head
cigarette at the end of creation
the end of the story
and the everyone and everything thing story
stairing down a freight train
Has time stopped yet? Has it come to a screeching halt?
I recall two experiences. Most striking was how my mind fell apart. I know my conscience to be a fragile construct;
a small amount of alcohol can reduce my cognitive (and communicative) powers to instinct, to naught. On these two
occasions, the singular experience of consciousness was demolished, leaving me for body, for animal, for matter.
With the greatest of efforts I could utter a few words or choose one cup among three from which to drink. These
experiences left me as close as I have ever come to the reality of my being, the facade of unity among the billions of
cells--I am the progeny of slime.
the image isn't mine but the words are
