The white room. It's not so much a color, or even the presence of all permutations of a pallette. More like a haze, an effervescent fog filling the mind. Wide angle eyes focusing alternatively on coke bottled, halitosed label maker, burly guardian and nurse mother (mother nurse?).
A tortuous triumvirate. One in three; three in one. So alone in a crowded room. Restrained by adrenalin laced eyes.
Ga Danken da Gaia.
I need this.
I need this like an electrode.
I want this, like a sweet cunt. Just a taste...the smell so hot I feel a rise. Sweat covered temples in the heat of a midsummer ocean lip. I want to smother myself with this divine ambrosia and feel like a creator. Hot and sour. A journey to your tunnel of love...I can taste it. Sweet tart. Take me to the gates.
Let me take you.
Let me take you down.
To the gates.
Down...to the gates.
The gates of....
Let me take you...to the gates of love.
Take me down.
"Give him 10 cc's."
That, is how I arrived in Central City.