porn, super porn
the pleasure passenger
2005-10-29 | 1:40 p.m.

empty-eyed. alone. outside diwali (the festival of light) has started and firecrackers are bouncing off of buildings, has someone been shot or is this all fun-jest? just. the ravens and the monkeys chatter at me, and the parakeets scream, and lanterns and light burn and bounce brightly, step lightly, smiles flash from every face. abjectly striking special and sensitive chords inside of me. me. me. yesterday I saw a five-foot snake squiggle & squirm out of a window near the computer science department.

last night I had a dream that was like salvia, like when I smoked salvia and sage near a rushing river in california. salvia scares me. each time I've imbibed, square cubes of rhythmic reality violently slam down around me, and I've forgotten me, and life, and last time I thrashed and kicked as everything stacked and I cut my lip and I tried to run far, far, far from it. squeezed between the gears, gadgets, and cogs that cognitively make life twitch & turn. I grabbed rob's hair and he gently tried to pry me off. rob says that salvia makes us realize that we are the 'collectors' of experience, solipsistic, and salvia makes us dissipate and realize that life rolls without us. whenever I thrashed on the forest floor I realized that each movement was pushing atoms, time, space, had such an effect, and I was scared, I was petrified. pagal hai.

is this a gain or a game?


I guess I'm, christian

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