It's kicking in
The witch distortions He's a stag A woodland prince An imp of desire A demon Asmodeus He's an efreet He's human
There's frames of time between us Between this paper and me His face is like cinema unfolding before me
Frame by frame His face It's beautiful
The room is breathing There's a lag between thinking and feeling There's a world of meaning between every word Focus You cannot focus
Graduating from his face to the rest of the room Psychedelic, temporal You're struggling Struggling to remember this To hold on to these flickering moments of time You're losing something you can't even mourn Temporal Everything feels temporal Temporal
I can't tell if I'm warm or not We're on a tent Under a blanket Experiencing all of this in comfort Sitting by the fire Puzzling existence under blankets and all Words can't convey... The serenity? The bliss? The peace Whatever.
You're literally trying to construct meaning It's taking so long A boat! We're on a boat On a sea of sensory experience
Dragonflies It all flies away like dragonflies
What will you think tomorrow when you read this? What rubbish? Volumes of sensation Volumes of feeling Locked away in these pages Are we at the end of the trip yet? Heartbeats The room has a heartbeat
Rubbish = When you're drunk But it's different now, now = Meaning is all Funky.
Learned wisdom Do we all trip the same way?
I'm experiencing the music in a way I've never felt before You feel the breaths The sound entering and leaving the room The rhythm you float in That it lulls you into this Hypersleep of the mind Gosh. The aura of the song This is what they must've felt The aura
This boat could go deeper But we choose to thread in safe waters tonight. I'm being hypnotised by the paper.
I have him close his eyes, as the beginning of ODESZA's A Moment Apart sets in. We breathe the same rhythm, ache for the same vision. We share something, even if only for sacred moments. Amid roman columns, under shivering stained glass, in the violet light...