I dipped my spoon into the icecream. I was

I dipped my spoon into the icecream. I was about to put it into my mouth when I saw the glittering band of gold which was still attached to a finger. I retched violently and every

thing came back up, it was disgusting. I ran to find some water, but the nearest tap wouldn't come on. I didn't have the strength to turn it, but then behind me

the strength laughed. My strength had left me long ago. It was so disgusted with my fear of a plunging economy that it left my body and became a separate existence, it just

a soul made of digital scum and froth. The intangible mesh that made up my mind flew from my fingers and outstretched consciousness into the teeming throngs around me. You looked

8-Bit, syncopated, out of focus and centered at the same time. It was funny to be there, to ffel this, to be penetrating into you in ways I never thought of. But something

about the never ending reel of 8 track tape winding into a Möbius infinity of Bee Gees greatest made you fight in your coma. More than Stayin' alive, you're eyes fluttered awake

...oh look LOOK, it's working!!! I pushed the bedside button to call the nurse as you sat up & weakly asked for a drink...in falsetto. My BeeGees music therapy had backfired & now

"staying alive" required a prodigious amount of jive talking in falsetto. It was tiresome, but at least I hadn't had to undergo extreme Minaj-age - the woman in the next room was

barking loudly now (her fans thought she was "talking", but I've seen her talk show), distracting our ribald dinner convo, so we threw food at the wall where we thought she was.