Strange place

I woke up rather... strangely. In fact, the word "woke up" was hardly what I felt. I felt "ultramarine and sour and bitter" lying there. I didn't even try to move for a few minutes, trying to understand what was going on with my sensations.

Synesthesia, I was forced to admit the fact after careful deliberation. Temporal lobe epilepsy, or some other kind of binge disease. I had never used alcohol alone, and I was pretty indifferent to alcohol, just for the taste in my tea or coffee...

Well, I had to get up and figure out what the last night's drinking had brought me, I decided with some fear and opened my eyes.

It's... I don't know what it is. A hallucination. I decided that I was beginning to panic, closed my eyes and took a few deep, C-sharp-major-sounding breaths. It wasn't very reassuring, I noted ironically, though irony and sarcasm are better than panic, so I'll have a look around.

The results of the examination did not please me at all. According to every sensory sense I had (and it was clearly and obviously mixed up), I was in the dream of a beaten avant-garde artist. The colors, sounds, smells, and tastes were all jumbled together and gave off a kaleidoscope of extravagant delirium all around me.

The only thing that made me feel better was my sense of touch. At least it informed me that I was lying and sitting on some kind of grass, rather hard, and the feeling didn't go away. And my body felt... let's just say, nothing - neither warm, nor cold, nor sore, nor uncomfortable.

Okay, so I'm crazy. More precisely, judging by my rather logical and not insane thoughts, I suffered severe brain damage that led to such pseudo-hallucinations - I understood that their existence was impossible, so they were not full-fledged hallucinations.

Okay, so the guys and I, judging by the grass, got up in the night and drove off in search of adventure. And, damn it, we found it: there must have been some kind of accident. And the fact that I don't feel pain and feel whole is absolutely no indicator. All right, we have to crawl around on the ground, looking for friends. Maybe they survived and are unconscious, but to the touch... at least I'll do something, I can't sit with my eyes closed or stare at glitches, after all!

Half an hour later I was in a panic. A slight panic, because I was regularly "breathing musically", but a persistent panic, because the feeling around me was really fucked up!

Namely, judging by what I felt, I was on some kind of plateau, no more than a hundred square meters in area. Judging by the cliffs - stone, and also converging to a cone, below the edge. Grass, several smooth, one and a half meter high, boulders, very much resembling pebbles rolled by the sea. That is all that is available to me, and in terms of all other senses except touch - game, delirium and avant-garde.

I didn't understand a damn thing," I said as I leaned my back against the boulder and began to call out the red-striped lemon-yellow shrieks around me. And it didn't do a damn thing except make me realize that the colors didn't go well together.

Okay, we sit and wait for help, I concluded. If I start dying of thirst, I'll jump off a cliff. Maybe it's a meter and a half, for example. In my current state, I won't do anything at all, except kill myself senselessly. Maybe there's a pill or something for my injuries. So it was premature to die.

So I tried to take a nap first. Then I slept. And I couldn't do a damn thing - I didn't want to sleep, I felt the same "nothing". And what am I supposed to do, I thought, and watched the phantasmagoria around me. I was able to see that I was in the middle of the night, and I was able to see that I was in the middle of the night.

Moreover, such a load on my brain should have caused fatigue - my surroundings were unnatural, my brain should have steamed from the attempts to sonterpret the surrounding game... But it did not. No fatigue, nothing like that.

In the end, out of despair I began to try, at least through my sensory ass, to perceive the reality surrounding me. And after a dozen subjective hours I succeeded. Moreover, the process of comprehension, which began with a tiny gray spot, began to spread to my surroundings, as soon as I "anchored" my attention on a stationary point. The level of delirium was beyond belief, but eventually I did "see" where I was. And my brain, it seemed, began to understand what I was trying to get from it, producing, regardless of the insane color cast, a kind of "monochromatic shadow" of the island and even the observable part of me.

At the same time, subjectively, all these processes of cognition and interpretation took more than one hour, and even more than a dozen hours. And I was not tired, I did not sit down... And this despite the fact that attempts to pinch myself, to bite my tongue and to bang my head against a rock quite realistically gave a feeling of pain!

The only logical explanation was a comatose state and persistent delirium. But this is a question of solipsism: if I am delirious, but it feels real to me (even if delirious), then I must live in it as I do in reality. For it is given to me in the senses, subject to certain, though inaudible, laws. In the end, when I wake up, I will write a book from the category of "work of the mentally ill", I hummed.

And I began to comprehend the reality that surrounded me experimentally. How much real time it took, I do not know, but the result was as follows: even with "monochrome contours", which were relatively "objective", the reality surrounding me was delirious.

Within the framework of what I perceived, I was on a "flying island," in a space packed with similar, though differently sized, flying islands. I was in a "flying island" filled with similar, though differently sized, flying islands. Moreover, the orientation of the upper "planes" was arbitrary, that is, they were at angles to my "gravity vector," and once an island was flown over my head, turned "downward" "upward" relative to me! And on it, in addition to the landscape and the crooked trees, there was something like a stream!

Quite delirious, I summed up my research and decided, just in case, to eat some grass. I was tired of "contemplating" the surroundings, and this contemplation was not causing anything but foul language.

I took a pinch of vegetation and put it in my mouth. It caused an explosion of sensations, from sounds to smells, but no taste. I chewed and took a sip, with some apprehension, but it was only a small weed, and I would rip it out if I had to.

The result of my devouring an incomprehensible disgusting thing was an explosion. Not in the sense that I covered my surroundings, but an explosion of sensory information of various types and only. Dumbfoundedly watching everything going wild (at least the "monochrome part" had not disappeared), I suddenly began to understand that the source of this kaleidoscope was me, who had devoured a blade of grass.

On the basis of this, after some time consuming a couple more grasses, I gained a certain degree of understanding of the phantasmagoric manifestations of my surroundings. Namely, light (completely wild, distorting and refracting in arbitrary places) and wind, atmospheric currents, in general.

In addition, as I realized what this obscene purple-bitter nastiness was, I noticed that it was somewhat subservient to my imagination. It was delusional, I concluded, and began to change the direction of the "rays" with my will. I was in the middle of a dream, and I was in the middle of a dream. I was able to get the boulder on my island to burn a hole, and I got a couple of burns. Small ones, but they hurt like hell.

I had to be careful, I hummed, or my hallucinations would turn into a nightmare. And I continued my experiments, albeit with caution.

And I must have been doing them for a week, if not a week. I felt no fatigue, no hunger or thirst; moreover, I discovered that within the hallucination I myself was a certain source of distortion for the delirium - it obeyed me, though limited - light gusts of wind, light not "emitted" by my herbivorous person, but "natural". Even the same grass moved according to my Will. Hello, megalomania, I greeted the new guest of my delirium joyfully. Mania was proudly silent, so I decided that she was my tsundere - not speaking, but clearly there.

As suddenly our solitude and majestic diversity with mania was violated by... And here's the devil knows what. At first glance, I thought the inter-island space was being dissected by a padded angel, for crying out loud. But my sensorics were obviously far from perfect. And as the whizzing fly approached, I could see that its wings were not those of a bird, but those of a mammal. A demon, I thought, looking at the approaching figure with its jagged zigzags.