a jar thing

its ok to get up and leave if this stops feeling good. we'll be back to the good parts soon. everything you do is your own choice. im sealed in a small jar enveloped in a sea of gummy paste the color and consistency of chewing tobacco, and a rising swell is testing the strength of the glass all around me. a vertiginous wave of seasick lifts me and tosses me around. a shock pink low poly worm with trilateral ridge pulses through the jar, passes above my eyes, its googly eyed face looks regressed yet unmistakably alive. taste a dull bitter bloody . the feeling, unreal, of something grasping around my neck. nothing here can touch me, i am not a part of this world, it can break my body but it cannot touch my essence -- crrrk -- sharpest sound imaginable -- a hairline fracture in front of my face, and my eyes respond in horror well before my brain can register, and ten more split off, and the next instance fifty and cshhhhhh -- the glass implodes, theres nowhere to go but in, and that means into: me: and here speed is the greatest mercy on the animal brain inside, because as soon as this body receives that lacerating latticework the gummy sickwalls of unidentified pestilence have already enveloped me, but then my skin contacts that chemically hyperexcited morass and theres no longer skin only putrid boiling flesh and organ soup and bones chewed through like cotton candy and feeling passes into something else that doesnt grasp for explanation to cling onto like some dying breath, feeling no long coheres but surrenders to the once foreign environment of a wider more encompassing kind of being, one not constrained by the limits of a skin so quickly shorn away, last panicking thoughts of a mind dissolving into wakingness --

your head hurts.