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I thought maybe it was just last night, but it wasn’t. With the incense burining and Transmetro under my belt I feel like I can write with drill bits into the brains of whom ever picks this up and reads. Like I could grind out their mind and stick my words in there with thumbtacks. Like post-it notes on their retinas
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Anywho. I’m high on something, and it feels good. As long as I make sure to keep this tied to sandalwood, I’m betting I can jumpstart it as needed. Light the incense, insert into anus, write like mad and feel like I’ve rubbed my gums with cocaine-watch the bleeding, please! How is this like dreams? It’s like the native American dreams, like a vision while waking. All I have to do now is prove I have the powers and it’s all golden. Once proven, they’re possessed. I love seeing the smoke in my face. At once cloying and golden. Like someone’s burning muses.
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