Strangeland

Mindless muddled mutter melting under my breath freezing upon escape into the cutting air. Return indoors to room too hot, my mattress is screaming at me again, a violent allure: there’s really nothing like the sudden touch of a cool sheet to the body’s naked flesh. I throw on some Cocteau Twins and sink into my dark infinite blissful void swirling, dissociating from my physical surroundings. Now entering this familiar plane, floating through on a dreamboat slowly drifting, I welcome the comforting separation of mind from body as the decibels take me away, far away. I come to a place where I don’t dream, but watch dreams unfold as altered memories. Novel plots play out before me in a cloud above my head. Loved and unloved ones, silhouetted strangers, organic structures . . . my strangeland develops by its own agency, moving pictures growing and pulsing like a nonlinear chemical oscillator.

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