If the only way out is the only way out, take the only way out. Slip around the cracks into where you see fit. The shadows are in your eyes and cover your body with a cool that only darkness can muster. Smoke this thick never rises so much anywhere else but right in here with sweetness and seer. Oh, and the usage of seer is a momentary fling here. As if these Iboga Nights were just burning, always. In a blaze of tandem and tedium and tact. All executed on the chopping block. Blindfolded in night vision. Devoured by dim-mentions of melody, feint in sound and echoing around the corner, coming from who knows where, but it’s matching and very driven. Iotide signaling the “OK.” Honing in hatred for the word “honing.” The fine line between listener and creator has been crossed. Become the being within this, within you. It’s a very rare moment, yet not as fleeting as rarity insinuates. Inhale Iboga Nights as Iotide provides a light.
• Iotide: http://lotide.tumblr.com