So this morning I’ve been eating my lunch and that’s probably not the best idea that I’ve ever had, but sometimes that’s the way things go.
There’s a fair bit of chili in what I’m eating at the moment and as it comes in and tingles my tongue, I can feel the walls of my mouth begin to roar and howl in pain as I slowly dip into another state of being.
There is so much tingling that I can feel it creeping around and slowly loosening the way that things are operating as the haze slowly increase and looks to move things around like when you get that massive “thunk” that clicks along the sides of the roof and the saliva drips down and carries all this mystery toward another haze and you’re whirling around and looking and all the sweat is falling down but not like a waterfall whilst all this spice dances throughout your mouth, making its own party and you’re among the crowd dancing as badly as everyone else and not feeling awkward about it and slowly but surely you’re all like “bow wow woah wow boom pow bow shig shrigley swoof huh” and then as the blob becomes another form entirely and transforms how you envision you can only start and wonder as to what you’re going through as the heat rises and you can only colour what you see but not what you hear and there’s no surface tension but it’s all in your face and a brick can only consummate what it is that you’re experiencing but you know that you’re in a field that you’ve never seen before and the flowers are looking at you and burning away at your face but they’re fine and you know that it’s hit you like a thing that hits hard and decides that sizzling is the only option but you’re trying to wade through this fog and there’s no reach but your fingers stretch out and try to find the day in order to know what its like to feel another object that can give you a frame of reference in this place, but you know that it’s all turning to oil in an oil field and yet you’re only sliding along in blocks of staccato notes yet you can only heal the wounded child on the hill over the cliff by the sea, and yet there’s still tasks to do and you can only look upon yourself as you flatten out and take up the whole expanse in order to know the life of being an existence on one dimension as viewed from a certain angle, but it wouldn’t stop and you’re still waiting for the calm to reach so your mouth will calm down and tell you that it;s safe for another bit and yet you slowly go under yourself and look forward to another tomorrow, another dawn, another day that you are alive!
So that’s how my mouth feels at the moment.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:12:55
I think I’ve had a little too much chili paste.
Written at work.