Colourful Times

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You go out for a stroll and you’re minding your own business but you get distracted for a second. You want to keep your mind on the path ahead and keep on strolling, keep on bouncing along but then there’s a small piece of grass that grabs your attention. One small multi-coloured blade of grass stands out from all the others and won’t let you look away.

And from that moment, you’re hooked. Your mind drops down a psychedelic rabbit hole and soon your afternoon stroll is forgotten and you’re trapped in a mind-bending assault on the senses, a triumph of digression over delineation. It’s as if a little bunny popped up and grabbed you with his fluffy paws and led you gently away into the deep recesses of the subconscious. All the while colourful fireworks burst around you in your soul and you gibber incoherent nonsense as if to plead that life doesn’t fade away like this, like an entertaining orgasm of pretty nothingness.

And then it’s ok again and you go home.



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