IT WAS HALF AN HOUR into Sunday afternoon by the time my gooey eyelids managed to wrench themselves apart. The resulting sensation was a bit like having fine sandpaper coated in blear drawn across your eyeballs. An ensuing blitz of excruciating light had my frontal lobes throbbing like they were attempting to break out of my skull, as the unwelcome attack of sudden consciousness made me retch to the point I almost threw up onto the pillow. At least, I could derive some comfort from the fact I was safely at home tucked up in my bed. Only to have that illusion instantly dispelled by the recognition it wasn’t my bed at all. Nor my home. For a disconcerting few minutes the exact location of that bed on Planet Earth, wasn’t very clear. A realisation that filled me with panic and feelings of extreme insecurity. That panic was only amplified when the knowledge of exactly where I was struck like a bolt of lightning. Continue reading
Daily Writings About The End Of Illusions
To write about my memories, past and present
An exploration into understanding the complexities of the Chemical Age, the Synthetic Chemical Revolution, and the toxins that impact us all
Singer, songwriter, poet & writer of The Singer's Tale
Une fois. Encore.
Public interest issues, policy, equality, human rights, social science, analysis
Hold your verve
hypnotist collector
More Coyotes than Wolves