Horton-Scorton
Bluelighter
The night came. Then a shadow came to me as I kept body and breath sewn to the dark refuge of bed. It spoke and told me it was going to show me hell. I went limp and the spirit blew winds carrying me down the river of earthly things in all their manifestations from the abstract and sublime to the blunt and vulgar. And after months of disintegration and forgetting about the world and its inhabitants I got to hell.
The glass case containing all my desires was there...it had every drug and every incarnation of amphetamine ever produced, and I forced my hand inside it and the objects collapsed and spiders crawled up my arm. Each spider was a planet and each pregnant and engorged. The bulbous orbs that the pregnant female spiders carried looked like earth, or like earthish satellites. My vision honed in without will to the depths of the midsections these Arachnids supported as they crawled in slow tempo up my hairy forearm. Relationships and bonds were made and broken in my hypersensitive vision. Birth death happiness and despair were there, being hauled around by spiders. I crushed the spiders and heard the heart-nibbling screams of entire populations dying in pain, crushed and drowning in blood, a newlywed couple fucking died in midfuck and the agony painted regret panic and confusion on their young pale shrinking faces.
Then I was in a desert and a gaggle of towering red cacti told me I was going to have my mind reduced to blocks and I was informed that hordes of beings would laugh at my many layers of fear. Then my mind became two, and it was dark and light. And my two minds argued and chattered and tried to be the real me and have dominance. Then my minds split into past present and future states. My different roles all split into separate minds. My competing desires were filtered into thousands of loud struggling voices. Eventually there were infinite minds and then each of those split in the same way so that the reduction continued without cessation and the desert laughed at this horrific matrix of consciousness. Then I came back to one and saw the love of my life standing and she said his dick was better than yours and our love was never real and then she dared me to grab her and take her back and I reached and she turned into my mom and dad merged as one body. Mom and dad pushed me and said I had given nothing like a non entity. They chanted incomplete child is trash and not sad, incomplete child is trash and not sad. The smile was so big it grew on me like a parasitic caterpillar. My younger self tugged on my beard and said why can't I be what I want when I grow up and a doppleganger of me took a wooden chair and beat my younger self to death, to a pulp that shriveled like a prune underneath the laughing smiling suns.
I saw factories of distaste and vaginal cannals festering with necrotic sewage and opening like tunnels and throbbing like puffing slimy frogs and voices beckoning saying eat your lunch boy or mommy will slip and lose something and daddy will ruin the family. Eyes in the orange sky said, plenty more but you are done. The shadow returned and took me to my bed.
I asked when I could see heaven.
The shadow said the best is for last, for after you come to and see what you have here on earth, if you are armed with the right glasses, paradise is yours. Just as you were the architect of hell and the author of me, the spirit that shows, the extension of your eyes.
I guess I knew what was best for my head deep inside; I needed a little hell.
The glass case containing all my desires was there...it had every drug and every incarnation of amphetamine ever produced, and I forced my hand inside it and the objects collapsed and spiders crawled up my arm. Each spider was a planet and each pregnant and engorged. The bulbous orbs that the pregnant female spiders carried looked like earth, or like earthish satellites. My vision honed in without will to the depths of the midsections these Arachnids supported as they crawled in slow tempo up my hairy forearm. Relationships and bonds were made and broken in my hypersensitive vision. Birth death happiness and despair were there, being hauled around by spiders. I crushed the spiders and heard the heart-nibbling screams of entire populations dying in pain, crushed and drowning in blood, a newlywed couple fucking died in midfuck and the agony painted regret panic and confusion on their young pale shrinking faces.
Then I was in a desert and a gaggle of towering red cacti told me I was going to have my mind reduced to blocks and I was informed that hordes of beings would laugh at my many layers of fear. Then my mind became two, and it was dark and light. And my two minds argued and chattered and tried to be the real me and have dominance. Then my minds split into past present and future states. My different roles all split into separate minds. My competing desires were filtered into thousands of loud struggling voices. Eventually there were infinite minds and then each of those split in the same way so that the reduction continued without cessation and the desert laughed at this horrific matrix of consciousness. Then I came back to one and saw the love of my life standing and she said his dick was better than yours and our love was never real and then she dared me to grab her and take her back and I reached and she turned into my mom and dad merged as one body. Mom and dad pushed me and said I had given nothing like a non entity. They chanted incomplete child is trash and not sad, incomplete child is trash and not sad. The smile was so big it grew on me like a parasitic caterpillar. My younger self tugged on my beard and said why can't I be what I want when I grow up and a doppleganger of me took a wooden chair and beat my younger self to death, to a pulp that shriveled like a prune underneath the laughing smiling suns.
I saw factories of distaste and vaginal cannals festering with necrotic sewage and opening like tunnels and throbbing like puffing slimy frogs and voices beckoning saying eat your lunch boy or mommy will slip and lose something and daddy will ruin the family. Eyes in the orange sky said, plenty more but you are done. The shadow returned and took me to my bed.
I asked when I could see heaven.
The shadow said the best is for last, for after you come to and see what you have here on earth, if you are armed with the right glasses, paradise is yours. Just as you were the architect of hell and the author of me, the spirit that shows, the extension of your eyes.
I guess I knew what was best for my head deep inside; I needed a little hell.
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