Rollercoaster

Inspired by Moe's learning to stop worrying and love the rollercoaster. Combined with watching and reading a lot of David Lynch interviews.
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How far can you slip inside yourself? Far enough to forget that the world is clicking away from you by degrees, timed by the steady thump thump of stubborn metal teeth stiff-tonguing a grooved track? Crushed onto the hard plastic seat the vibration of destiny enters your body through your asshole, like a tiny man is down there, chipping away at the wrinkles. You imagine the flesh being smoothly shorn away until a swirling black hole develops and the rest of you begins to be sucked into your ass, your disbanded molecules clothes-lining themselves on coarse-and-curlies as they enter the void.
Fragrant, you think, just as everything changes.
Aloft. The long-awaited pause, the peak. You are hovering in the sky and your belly chakra feels wide open, like one of those swirling lava machines that people stared into in the 60s during moments of drug-induced enlightenment. You have become the divine lolly-pop of love.
Quick quick think the sound of the sudden in-breath because here it is and here it comes the world is letting go and it’s taking you with it.
Now you are unravelling like a silk ribbon snatched up in a hurricane. The dishevelled meat you call a body is falling to the earth, descending past the sun and its harsh yellow light that is scratching frantically at your closed eyes, looking for a place to hide. Your stomach, which just a moment before had swum in the edgeless frontiers of ecstasy has been swept upwards into your throat and is now a tetherball knocking against your uvula.
you have
forgotten
to think
anything
at all
You may as well have landed naked at the end of it all; you are reborn. When you open your eyes all the edges are gone. Everything has curve to it, swing. Everything is in motion. Smiling like someone who has discovered the joke of mortality, you rush off to the wall of photos. Something inside you compels you to hold that image, the moment you were snapped inside the drooling mania of transition. Thoughtless and free you haul out your wallet, and pay the man.