This is not a good town for psychedelic drugs.
Extremely menacing vibrations are all around us."
Dr. Gonzo: I Think this place is getting to me.
I think I'm *hiccup* getting the fear.
"We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers and also..."
[
Without you I’m nothing and more stupid stuff like this, painkillers, nothing more. Black-and-white pictures of small children which look like androids that once were human, a heroic look. A guy is shouting in the background with a brutal, menacing dir en grey voice.
Something’s wrong, but it’s still too blurred to see what it is exactly. Colorful pictures of children, playgrounds, young, fighting parents, teenage idols, my brother’s voice telling me a made-up fairy tale, washing down the drain rapidly, like gypsum from the gauze holding it. How can changes be so unobserved, painless, as carbon monoxide: no detectable smell, only silent death.
I’m sure I’ll notice only visible effects in the mirror: one missing tooth, bad complexion, white hair on black fabric, bad taste in clothes and music, missing persons reports once in a while. who the fuck am
I? ]
