My Diary: The Disease That Even Imagination Cannot Cure

I walked out of the house with my cup of tea converted to a brown mist floating some way above the sailing boat on my head.‭ ‬Both the mist and the boat dispersed before I caught the mechanical camel to the bird haunt and finally the primate Olympus where the gorilla god spoke using several words at once,‭ ‬I replied with multiple silences.‭ ‬I came home to take the chocolate princess to see a pair of hands‭; ‬the hands pointed out bad news and June and I crept into stone towers to shuffle home.‭ ‬I heard a strange whispering from the cellar we haven’t got and saw a premonition of the sea above towns of municipal coral.‭ ‬In disgust I broke mere words into pieces and handed them around‭; ‬only one person refused the gift and he had arrow slits for eyes‭ ‬-‭ ‬I drew a picture with arrows instead of trees.


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