[ WP ] Your party makes camp for the night , and you 're first on watch . Unfortunately , someone foraged psychotropic mushrooms for dinner .

Hazy… Saliva straining my face… I look down to see, to see a new eye, or did I look up, and recognize my third eye. How caged it must have been, but now that I am alone, and I feel so knowledgeable of everything around me. Perhaps this is the first time I have ever left the cage. Like Ravana in Lanka, so did I rule all the demons of my city, like so many allusions I could draw, I leave the paint brush dry and look to my loins for a moist pleasure. I feel a shadow behind me looming, sweeping its fingers to put me under its control. Everything about me changes, the form I manifest, the bubbles I pop in my head, the ideas that circle around me in the fashion of a Vaseline sphere against a wall waiting to drop. 
 “ Intersecting roads, legs presented on each side, sprouted out between, such phallic imagery ”. Words I shouted in my head, screamed in my head, wrote in my head, saw mechanized in my head, words I saw die in my head. 
 The tree in front of my face, calling me to stare, I feel so bare with my dick in my hand, and a rainbow vision of the land. Pillow behind my head, plush cotton skin, jarring motion up + down, common male stimulus… It stimulates me. I look to the tree. Won ’ t you just have sex with me. I gaze to the tree, your limbs are so nude, my ecstasy can ’ t be contained. I pray to the tree. Just let me watch till ’ these dreams end, ripped sinew by sinew, as I fall so low, the abyss opens up below, eyes in the clouds, shrouded by my own thoughts, notions of precognitions garnered by my lawyers stipulations of sexual harassment, but in this moment I am the only thing for you my dear lover. 
 Sands in the dune are slowly pushed aside… a form of measurement… a form of pain… a form to keep me away from myself. Chaos is a constant factor in the life of a reject to society, to a killer of sanitary behavior, the rapist of all things pure, no wonder I look in the mirror and see myself! My mind unravels, I disconnect from all forms of sensation, I want to fly away. 
 
 The sky welcomes a balloon to its firmament, how does it handle the balloon as it swoops from anemoi to anemoi on a trail for something that is so far gone, as the balloon seeks old friends that it met on the old ground. So lost in the clouds, if you weren ’ t as high as it, perhaps you would never understand.
