Bought a bottle of absinthe, in some odd hope of nightfall & full moon - and a
bottle of white Vermouth to flush it all away. The dark lasts longer, playing
alone here in the corner. In a wait for the winter solstice - I'm bit early
but hey, like you'd care anyway... now, what are these weeds that swim in my
bottle?

If the previous chapter made no sense whatsoever: I'm on progress. I ate the
weed. Didn't know what they do with the worms. Go away. I don't like you.

Black trip.