Humanoid clouds float around my presence, talking about everything from football to anal warts.
I try to sleep but the god of such is on vacation.
I doze into the music in my ears. Bowie tells me to read more into reality. Alice tells me to be just that little bit more anarchist. Freddie tells me to become larger than life. I construct a new reality from these distant echoes, one more involving than the various discussions.
Finally, I awake. I gargle with Super Cola™ and eat milk. Sugaaaar.