a dessert of smell

Randall Flabber-Don told me this morning that my hair look blue and so I shaved them off. I've been having these dreams about a purple sun that turns all the animals into humorous literates and I guess this radiates from my head upwards. so, once more, I feel tired of being. that I am me and it's gonna be a long while before any sort of change takes place. sitting here, in my lovely dining room, I'm preaparing myself for an odour-supper. took me two hours to get all the elements, but now it's ready. I'll start off with more simple flavours, some gentle grass near the front porch, a thoroughly washed whig, a little ice, an old book from the library and a mushroom. those smells tread upon me lightly, mercifully enough, to take off that pressure and ease my stupid mind. that old book does much of the work, it smells calm and contemplative. mushroom at the end already starts to highten my desire and curiosity. a crow's feather I found near the shed is the link for more stronger flavours. I have some apple-juice, the sweatshirt my wife uses for jogging, a bowlful of candy, that old hammer I have in the shed, a bottle of beer and a bloody handkerchief. my nose bled yesterday and I just thought to put it aside, no brutal force was used. I dare think of myself as not so blunt. these brought in already a bit more contrasts and hints of decay and depravation. still, I leave the hard stuff for the last. yes, a glass of whiskey is there, an ashtray, Mr. Proper (good man!), a dead mouse, my favourite feminine perfume, a small canister of gasoline and the finishing touch - warm hamburger. took me over an hour to work through them all and I think my choices for tonight were quite alright.
yet still, I'm worried. in all the abundance of this absurdity, still I find reason and attachments, still this blurry light hangs around me, unwilling to die out. I guess I'll be off to bed, now.