Trippy Doo Da

I've awoken in Gonzo's head: awkward and ambiguous juxtapositions of vibrant colors and other-worldy forms slowly drip down, as if pulled by gravity itself, to cover all that I can fix my eyes upon, like wax melting to drape my saucer-sized pupils; all of which signifying that the trip I have been impatiently anticipating is maturing and growing out of control, like Frankenstein's monster, beyond the limits of my mind's wimpy newbornesque grasp.