my boss told me this incredible tale of a cocaine induced 5 day binge. ends with bizarre hallucinations. he sits up in bed. sweat pouring off his face. he notices these feathers moving. beautiful and brilliant. just in the corner of the room. he looks closer. what the hell is that. a thick plumage of red and green and purple feathers shaking slowly in the corner of the room. what the hell is that. it's moving slowly almost as if it is breathing. he looks closer. he makes out a figure. makes out some skin. makes out a neck turning slowly towards him. and then he sees it. his own devilish mug smiling back at him. a redder mayan version of himself with war paint below the eyes. it looks at him and then grins the evil grin. he said he laid back down on the bed, (he didn't know if it was 5 minutes or 5 hours) but when he looked back again, from around the corner he say a revolver with cop cuff links attached to it. he yelled out. whoever you are. i'm alone. i've just been up for 5 days. everything is okay.
i think the Vic man really tapped into something here. not sure what it is. but i do wonder what i would say to the mayan version of myself
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