Brain drained or bad reaction.
I have spent much of the day in almost total hallucination, a bubbling inferno popping and oozing beneath me. Fire reaching from my own hands towards anything I attempted to touch. Such intensity and magnitude is the heat, the very bricks that surrounds me, are blistering and crumbling, revealing a nuclear wasteland beyond.
The cause of this illusionary drama, yesterday's booster vaccination. No dining with mushrooms, no sipping psilocybin, no languishing in lsd. Instead, they call it the Pfizer vaccine. Although from my position clawing the ceiling, it could have easily been a cocktail of all three.
I have reacted badly to all three vaccinations. The prior two were of the Vauxhall Astra kind. Both took me out of action for 3-4 days. In those days, even Satan complained about the heat. The effects started within the brief 10 minutes walk from the clinic, back to my house. Crescendo occurring with surfing Satan himself, through the sea of tormented souls.
Today was something else. Firstly, I had the vaccination yesterday, on Friday. All was well afterwards. Not even the associated numbness where the injection had been. All was tickerty-boo!
This morning, I woke late, felt groggy, but shrugged it off. By lunchtime, something was not right, so I cancelled the casual plan to check in with my mum. Shortly afterwards, the sparks and flashes of burning light began. Lucidity came in ebbs and flows, increasingly infrequently. In my living room, is Lucifer, Beelzebub, Old Harry, and a cantankerous old lady called Edith.
Orks were toasting marshmallows around my thoughts, and Paul Hogan was handing our shrimps. My core made Chernobyl look like a holiday camp. I swear that I saw Margaret Thatcher in a bikini. It was then I accepted my own personal hell.
Currently, I have no idea of my true temperature, although Satan has gone off to buy us ice cream. I have also subsequently managed to pee without melting the porcelain. Although, it now has a Half-Life of 1000 years.
Slice of toast, anyone?
I have spent much of the day in almost total hallucination, a bubbling inferno popping and oozing beneath me. Fire reaching from my own hands towards anything I attempted to touch. Such intensity and magnitude is the heat, the very bricks that surrounds me, are blistering and crumbling, revealing a nuclear wasteland beyond.
The cause of this illusionary drama, yesterday's booster vaccination. No dining with mushrooms, no sipping psilocybin, no languishing in lsd. Instead, they call it the Pfizer vaccine. Although from my position clawing the ceiling, it could have easily been a cocktail of all three.
I have reacted badly to all three vaccinations. The prior two were of the Vauxhall Astra kind. Both took me out of action for 3-4 days. In those days, even Satan complained about the heat. The effects started within the brief 10 minutes walk from the clinic, back to my house. Crescendo occurring with surfing Satan himself, through the sea of tormented souls.
Today was something else. Firstly, I had the vaccination yesterday, on Friday. All was well afterwards. Not even the associated numbness where the injection had been. All was tickerty-boo!
This morning, I woke late, felt groggy, but shrugged it off. By lunchtime, something was not right, so I cancelled the casual plan to check in with my mum. Shortly afterwards, the sparks and flashes of burning light began. Lucidity came in ebbs and flows, increasingly infrequently. In my living room, is Lucifer, Beelzebub, Old Harry, and a cantankerous old lady called Edith.
Orks were toasting marshmallows around my thoughts, and Paul Hogan was handing our shrimps. My core made Chernobyl look like a holiday camp. I swear that I saw Margaret Thatcher in a bikini. It was then I accepted my own personal hell.
Currently, I have no idea of my true temperature, although Satan has gone off to buy us ice cream. I have also subsequently managed to pee without melting the porcelain. Although, it now has a Half-Life of 1000 years.
Slice of toast, anyone?
