fast if it were slow motion, time doesn’t wait for my vegetable brain. it’s like being locked into torture and it now pays attention to any little sound in that they’re constantly warped to empty stretched dimensions where i know there’s no solace to be explored but my mind goes there to still discover feasible solutions or preoccupations granted in their warping graciousness since there’s at least a belated accountability of capture to be deluded with that. i feel like there’s a bonus visitor(s), i can hear and sense the weight carried in the air tense against a bodily frenzy propped by defeat to its unconniving concern and conscious feet not of a turning creature; propped but drifting its weight in directions rivet to those expressive dimensions and beyond them which utterly fatigues me. all these extravagantly pained sounds, the worst of which that’s sparse yet immaculate is behind the rat-wall an improvised third-rate spy sensory nanobomb dropping and i heard it click when it met the floor because it was a day and age pill! my ear is a steeled crystalline fiber of onslaughts, not fool-duty. were they said “vagrant’s” salute to the oblique narrow terminals thickening with no inherent pence sight in girth? repeating torment second by second that’s been accurately located by cretins i don’t even confirm the silhouettes of like they’re feeding, it’s hell. if this goes on i won’t be able to be chucked to go outside at all
