MAGIC RABITS.

I see the color orange, and rasperry voices. Pools of turquoise and oddities, like what you saw in the papers last week. It could of been last year, you could of even been imagining it. I don't know- You're doing it. Right now. All I see is black and white, letters upon letters upon letters, all jumping and jumping and jumping, as if they were striving to drive me mad with their bare sounds and voices. I don't know why they'd do it. They just do. Bright and dark, black and white, all around and everywhere. Haunting tones, echoing vision. I see echoes. All around, all echoes clouding up the current view of vision. And sounds feel cold right now, or cold sounds like that. I'm not sure, but everything sounds and tastes like plastic.