•
Rating: Joshua awoke with a start, the alarm clock was tolling the hour of his death, he thought, the bells whirled around him, the death knell sounded only for him, perhaps. The acid he had taken the night before hadn't worn off at all, yet he had to go to work, he knew it well, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He got out of bed and made himself some coffee, reality was dilated and torn apart and who knows how many other damn adjectives took shape in front of his eyes, and behind. Gulping down the piss-colored (and flavored) oil and donning a worn-out shirt and equally shabby pants, he left the house. He got into his Ford model dust even in the air vents, tossed the briefcase onto the passenger seat, and started the engine. He didn't drive at all and found himself in front of his workplace: NASA's Kennedy Space Center.
Another hole in the brain, he thought, as he now found himself with a disk in his right hand, wearing a lab coat that tingled with activities unknown to him on his skin, he was going crazy, he knew it, but he had to work. In front of the panel buzzing with buttons and lights, he inserted the disk into the slot (pussy, he thought) and immediately his nausea rose and into his ears entered an alien music, and alienating damn, distant guitars revolved around a voice (his? whose?) wondering the reason for all this, "oh why is anything here"? it said with a pained tone, dancing around his head, melodies intertwined over electrical discharges, guitars again, acidic, then a countdown, electrical cables took over, monster children's voices played ring-a-ring-o'roses around a vortex sent at 200 mph, and then the return of that peaceful melody, again pained, it was the voice of his soul yes he knew it because "I'm Working At Nasa On Acid" he told himself, that was the truth, and everything faded onto the carpet of a space melody, it's got to be said. Yes, it's got to be admitted. The disk clicked, his head hurt, a colleague entered the control room and Joshua lunged at him, feeling dirty electricity filled with blood fill his ears, a repetitive, decaying lullaby, continuous loops, stamped one word in front of his eyes, "FUZZ," and he screamed in his colleague's face "I Wanna Get High But I Don't Want Brain Damage", and he shouted it with a wildly distorted voice amidst all that fucking noise.
He slammed the colleague to the ground and went to the control panel where the infernal disk had clicked forward again, and pressed the broadcast button, everyone had to bleed from their eardrums, the noise became uncontrollable, the previous voice repeated the same questions but was buried under humid and crackling noise of dirty and rotten electricity, the word "FUZZ" from earlier became huge in front of him, regurgitating anxiety from every side, cables disconnecting, insane feedback, electric drills coming from alien bases, now everyone could hear the noise in his head, the entire base, it was a huge "NASA's Final Acid Bath" and everyone writhed in the whirlpool of these guitars coming from planets made of nothing but rust and were left injured. Joshua grabbed the microphone and started shouting the crazy phrase he had shouted at his colleague a little earlier, who was now lying in his vomit. His voice was increasingly dehumanized, and the disk spread a horribly twisted lullaby for children, for monsters, for faulty robots, the machine's tempo was frantic and insane, and the melody was supported by electronic ghosts rising like regurgitations from the stomach of a monster from the icy celestial vault, a thousand voices appeared from nowhere and finally made him fall to the ground, not before finding a true thought that honored his true nature: "I Want To Get Damaged, But I Won't Say Hi".
Finally, silence. Everything went quiet. The disk stopped, exiting NASA's mechanical pussy. Joshua looked at it intensely, not understanding what the hell had happened, only one question remained imprinted in his head: "who the hell gave me this damned disk?"
The alarm clock was still tolling the hour of his death. It was time to get up.
Tracklist
Loading comments slowly
