Journeys to the Elvish Halls Inhabited by Faceless Denizens and Scrolling Texts of Magical Importance
I lay a drawing of mine at my side and stare into it. I exhale thick white smoke, inhale, exhale, repeat. The picture breathes, I notice forms that I never had seen before when I had drawn it. I close my eyes and lay back. The picture floats into my field of vision, spinning in the center of my "minds eye" it unfolds and tendrils of colors stream and ooze from the sides.
The colors and forms in the image wrap around me, engulf me. Complex geometries construct magnificent glimmering hallways of blues, crimson, and golden gleaming streams of color. The hallways are pulling me, or I'm pushing myself through them.
And suddenly they are inhabited by faceless specters, alien forms with no mouth, eyes, nose, ears, no discernible details. They are operating control panels, manipulating things on smooth golden surfaces. across their chests flow elven alien texts, indecipherable and gloriously beautiful. The walls too are now coated with this writing, its flowing everywhere.
And I fly through and around passively noticed by these beings. As consciousness returns these beings flips to the periphery of my vision, slide away, and "hide". The imagery folds in on itself, or unfolds out of itself and I am left in my bed with a elvish grin and wild hair, ecstatic bliss abounds.