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I had very little, but the trip ended up quite intense as I had no sitter. There was all sorts of stuff going on, but for whatever reason only that was bad. Mind trapped in pulsating flesh-hell, stalked by ghoulish creatures emerging from folds in the ever-altering walls? Eh.
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Neither. Just that the outline of my sense of space, time or my own body all were physically impossible. Arm has no beginning or end, any given snapshot of perception is liable to turn fractal and split into another one, room keeps reconfiguring like a scene from Inception...
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Trying to communicate things like this can be a challenge. Comment to a friend returning from a trip to the bathroom: "M.C. Escher was onto something with his fish." "What?"
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