As i watch these words swirl unconcertingly before me, i immerse myself into into this intoxication, letting it take me where it will. Swept along the with the current, finally having grown tired of its incessent presence i let it wash over me. It might take me on a fantasmagoric expedition. Winding its way through lush forests where raindrops as fat as bumblebee's render the the air with their percussive symphony and every breath is laced with the all prevading aroma of wet earth. Some oblique resemblance to the image anthing from DMB conjures up in my mind. Of an oasis in a cold desert. Almost painfully lush in contrast to the arid landscape surrounding it. Long fronds heavy with dew, bobbing drunkely in the wind which carries the same sweet scent of another memory. Diving head first into the warm swirling mass of music, i can almost feel its tendrils lapping gently across my toes. Rising from the depths something which vaguely resembles a phish on steroids turns just in time to wag its psychedelic tail at the violinist foaming at the mouth, while beauford is nailing it like Thor never did, managing to slither its way back into my subconscious.
