I am alone in a dark room. I am alone in a dark room with my ulnar artery spurting out a fresh Rorschach test onto the wall maybe once every 0.5 seconds. I am becoming lighter and lighter. I am becoming lighter and later. I am lit by the unearthly glow of late night television. I am being raised up by late night television. I am being enlightened by late night television and I can feel my body getting lighter. I can feel my body getting lighter. I am slowly but surely losing mass. I am rising up, floating up. I am being dragged up by rogue Phsh agents who have put on stupid hairless mammal costumes. They are stupid hairless mini mammals in mini land. They are weird colours of orange and peach and almost flesh.
This is my first big attack. This is where they get me. Most of us exist in our depressions for all of our lives. Some of us don’t. I am one. I am lifted up and I becoming crass and populist and I can remember as I’m being gently chewed by these gorgeous bits of white. I can just remember as my colour cones are triple stimulated and blank out mini-land thinking what a shame it is that I will miss whatever it is you are about to do. I remember feeling sad when your mini-mouth opens up and your pearly whites become whiter than they are already and shift and change and come and get me.