D the same way
From Infictive
The sun is not a lamp to guide the eyes towards naps and happiness. It was put there by a bear, a big scaly burping bear to make you confess. No jest no mess, just the best blessed face and kill the rest. Feeling devine breasts in a steamy underwater shower, Go pops soothe sore throats but sink some boats. The peoples mostly float, full of bubbles and beer. Bales of Wild Dagga swings accross our nation in planes and trucks , bringing euphoric luck and still he provide the moisture from our furr to the world and the world inside the world. So once again we befriend the bitter end, thick or thin.We drink more wine and get dryer, we smoke more turkey and get higher. So we bathe in the grave. Shadow squirrls emerge from the corners of the moonlit room. D shudders and puls his lacy blankets close to his pouty full lips. The light disappears as fast as it appeared, the moon fullish but dull, only peeking through passing clouds. D clinches his eyes shut tight as if to block out the darkness. Blinding Darkness. A Extremely Low Frequency...a chitter...bearly audible...but he can feel it vibrating his aorta... No motion...no sound...but a chitter inside his body that comes from some thing...some horde of something just outside his vision...outside his body. These are The Bales of Wild Dagga lurking...tweaking...peeking...shrieking...and most of all leaking...a chitter, a vibration in the arms, a tightening in the chest, and quick breaths. "Oh, God...hand me a phone!" He juts upright...now angry ready to defend himself... He fails to dial Unruh Manor...but reaches out locally...only to set the shadow dance like a hook to a fish. Just a pinch...but the line goes out and the line will eventually reel itself back in... Burbing bear watches all of this, burping bears it laughs in mirthless bliss.
