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Ascending in Fog Limbo

You were quick to eat those little gold cap shrooms you’d picked that frosty morning.

Kshhhhhhhh (smoke machine) a strobe light ignites the room (the light at the end of the tunnel).

(strobe) tick (strobe) tick (strobe) tick (strobe) tick (strobe)


You can’t see a foot in front of yourself; welcome to Fog Limbo; where translucent silhouettes flicker and disappear.

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You’re standing still, but the room isn’t, if you can call it a room. It’s more like a wilderness.

Voices echo, bass ripples through space and time.

Smoking goes undetected in Fog Limbo, the glinting fiery tips speckling the place are the only hints.  tumblr_mhlahyonF51qaozevo1_250

You don’t see your own cigarette, your eyes are closed, but you can feel her burning on your lips. Holding your hand.

Violet waves crash over head and reality is a figment of your imagination.

Open up.

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Unfamiliar patterns adorn, spiralling and exploding against each other. This isn’t planet Earth, it’s Fog Limbo, the rules don’t apply.

This distorted world zooms in and out at your will like a camera lens. You’re truly lost.

Moving your limbs suddenly reminds you of your body. You can leave the meat sack where it is, it can’t fly like that spirit of yours.

You can hear screams and laughter in some far off dimension. Somewhere glass is smashing. They’re smashing everything.

“IN THE CUPBOARD!” “AHHHH!!!” (smash) (bang) FUCKKK! IN THE FUCKIN CUPBOARD CUNT!!! (fuckin smash). Everything’s shattering. Are you making this up?

You’re lying on the couch; melting.

(strobe) tick (strobe) tick (strobe) tick (strobe)


That old song pounds into your skull:

” Now I’m falling asleep

And she’s calling a cab While he’s having a smoke And she’s taking a drag Now they’re going to bed And my stomach is sick And it’s all in my head But she’s touching his-chest Now, he takes off her dress Now, letting me go

And I just can’t look its killing me And taking control…”

Time stops and folds around you. There’s only one way you know you’re still you; Because even while you’re missileing through your makeshift Aurora Borealis…you’re still thinking about her.


She’s thousands of miles away, just like your mind.

The difference is your trip will be over soon.


How long have you been in here?



About TheFeelest

I don't actually exist outside of my own perception.

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