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i wandered outside
smoking
the sting of the jack
lingering
the crunch of a stranger's footsteps
invading my head
blighting what was left of me inside
psychotic crows
began mocking my tenuous grip
as reality dissolved around me
and
everything
went
meta-sonic


having managed to escape the sonic maelstrom by applying a reverse trajecotorisation of my aural awareness which propelled me through the appropriate ceiling hatch (concealed as it was inside the malodorous beak of a psychotic crow); and thusly spilling onto the floor of the Den of Iniquity in a somewhat karmic decentralised state, I was unable to escape the horde of 'neo-post-retro-modernists' recumbent therein who having 'consumed' my Sonic Narcotics (that I had unwittingly transmitted through my auraliser having mistakenly set it to 'streaming' mode), and delighting in the intoxicated reverie thereby induced, insisted that i attend a gathering...

 

down into the wasteland daddyo. . . far out. . . . .