Yesterday, you were in suburban New Jersey, and then you took some acid. Now, you’re not. Dropped off in a field somewhere far away, it’s summer, and there’s sunshine, nothing and nobody around except a barn in the distance, but you’re not scared to be alone. You wander toward the barn in your barefeet and blinking eyes, carried by the sun. Doors open, psychedelic banjo seeps into your pores, and a naked woman feeds you a sweet drink out of a clay bowl, singing, “Looked at the sky today and said, ‘I love the sun.’” She tells you her name is Dreamend and you’ve walked into her world: “Magnesium Light.” You dance as sunbeams alight your eyes through missing panels in the walls, and when your feet are tired, you lay in a pile of hay, and it doesn’t hurt—it feels like clouds. You fall asleep smiling, as she strokes your hair and sings her song.
“Magnesium Light” (download):
https://magnetmagazine.com/audio/MagnesiumLight.mp3
