I think I'm going to take hallucinogens soon. Things have become too sharp, too grating. I look forward to placing that tingly paper square on my tongue, and feeling the miniscule liquid movement that is the beginning. Melting and inverted, I'll collapse into myself. With a quiet sigh, and a secret smile, I'll ride the razor's edge.
Shifting and seamless.
I'll squeeze my eyes shut and see singing crystalline pinwheels imprinted directly on the backs of my eyelids. I'll suck my tongue and savor the tiny piece of industrial strength brain wash that assimilated itself to me. Through me. I imagine the intricate network of nerves and spinal fluid recoiling and ultimately being dominated by the alien compound, which will be feeling it's way blindly through the passages of vertebrae.
I'll have belladonna eyes, a slight sheen of sweat, and shaking hands. Delirious in my comfort.
I hope it will be like hard-booting a computer. I need to press my button. The restart button. It's spring cleaning in this bitch.
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