Roaring past, screaming, scampering, streams of cannabis stimulated thoughts. Seated on a pile of fluorescent bricks, breathing in gusts of ethereal solitude. Faint echo of a storm, amidst the heavy sound of the black bass drum.
Drooping eyes, tilted head, tilted balance, the bricks subsiding from beneath gradually, sinking into the depths, one step at a time, weightless soul.
Spiraling into the darkest pits of red hot hell, yet the infernal heat of torture not being felt, the serene glow of intoxicating guitar notes looming large and inebriating the innocent soul.
Almost there, ‘The Doors’ of hell creaking open, when all of a sudden a puddle of smoke appears, a silent landing into the smoke.
Another bottomless pit, this time scuba diving into a certainly uncertain future, a chorus faintly audible, a group of amoebae singing along, humming The Satanic Verses.
End of the pit, rainbow coloured sky receiving the disoriented soul, caressing, smothering it with wasted love. Momentary darkness, loophole in a non-existent stomach. In the next moment swimming along a shadowy ocean, blue in shape, oval in colour.
Then appears the ‘Schizoid Man’, sucking in the sweetness off the waters, sucking in the soul, guiding it through a meadow, colours spurting from the flowers, the fragrance nauseating the limbs. Thud…the soul dropping atop a green plant.
The smell recurring again, memories flashing, weed in hand, immersed in an ash pit, the hand burning, reeking of paradise, the soul conflagrant, passing through muslin, loopholes in the muslin.
Loopholes………smell………..disfigured Messiah………haze………..
