
in nights like this he would just drink in the dark and smoke and lie on his side and hallucinate about a snake vomiting vibrating colors on a white wall Maybe the snake had eaten paint But it was a small snake no bigger than a worm and the amount of dancing colors it vomited all over was astounding Enough to paint the whole house But the colors would never stay on the things they fell upon The colors would bounce around and dance and vibrate mingle with each other and part and mix again and the small snake would vomit some more and it would make a sound like babies crying All he wanted in times like these was to crawl over to the poor snake and comfort it in some way pat its head, place it in his armpit to get warm…
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this is an interesting post.
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The format though is kinda wacky in reblogg form (˃̶᷄︿๏)
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Wow, just brilliant.
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Thank you (′ꈍωꈍ‵)
A bit of tequila before bed would yield such dreams from time to time.
I’m glad it works.
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Appreciate your imagery. 👏
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( o˘◡˘o) Oh, thank you!
Appreciate your comment 🙂
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This is astounding! You very accurately summed up how I feel about some of my hallucinations. We all deserve some comfort, even them. This poem really touched me.
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(=^ω^=) I’m very glad to hear that, my friend.
It’s very true. Hallucinations and demons are far better befriended than fought.
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