they pulled out
an old rusty
.38 smith & wesson revolver,
& proceeded to load it with
some sorta made-up nonsense
then shot me point blank
in the face
i was handcuffed &
my feet were bound
voicebox removed
hearing muffled
vision warped
everything that was familiar
now seemed highly unfamiliar,
almost foreign
then for reasons unknown
they shoved my seemingly
lifeless body into a
thought depravation tank
this is the part that
upset me greatly
i could deal with
not moving
& all my senses
not performing even an
inkling of their full potential
gunshot = flesh wound
thought was the
only thing I had left that
was guaranteeing me
Of my existence
without thought I am nothing
towards the end
of the ordeal
everything slowly
began to comeback
nothing seemed
quite the same
but at least things seemed
to be once again
made of a good mix of
concrete & abstract
The culprits of
this sonic attack
(or absurdist initiation rite, depending on yr viewpoint)
said that in the near future
they would return to
repeat the process
& see how much furthur
they could take it
if & when there is a next time,
i will be much more
prepared for whatever the fuck
surrealistic nonsensical shenanigans
that may or may not take place
during the next encounter.
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