po-TA-TO CAKKKKKEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSS

It is now 333 am.

I love Peter Gabriel. He's one of the most passionate vocalists and musicians for me. Now here he is, pushing sixty years of age and still he's pushing me over the edge, throwing me overboard and crushing me with the wave of sound, as I'm flung away by the undertow. Listening to him puts me in a state where I can feel no spatial relativity. Everything is nothing, and nothing is everything all at once. No barriers, no definitions, only sensation. Life. Pure, white, light. Shattering my senses. As nils would say, a cosmic cafeteria of colours. Yet confined to it's purest form. Absent of fraKCture, of dissaray, of entropy(even though chaos must exist, this feels too concerted to be random). A solid white laser beam, keeping me together, and tearing me apart.

It is now 340 am.

 

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