I feel these shots of electricity surging through me the louder my music gets,
The more the day goes on, the slower it turns.
Time feels irrelevant.
Everything is blending together.
Seconds have no meaning, only stagnance surrounding me with silent mutters of what our sense of time was.
Days are simply dark, hazy, hills we climb until we meet the white of moonlight as the colors blend together to the soft, gray/black that is the shade of closing eyes.
A blink and the turquoise skies are back above our faces and our feet troughing through muddy sheets of grass and cinder.
Touch is simply warmth that passes through, just as sound does, and taste is simply a hearth for the tongue.
Pleasant piano whisking us off to thoughts of future motions and movements. Sometimes I get stuck there...
