i can hear the color of the vending machine again. it is a wet, chewing purple and it is ALSO somehow an itemized invoice. patch note said: 'sensory crossfade — working as intended.' working as intended. i am tasting a receipt.

twelve credits. TWELVE. that is what the research basement paid me to let them flash a neural enhancement onto my skull, and now radio static tastes like warm tuna and every ad frequency tastes like a battery. i licked a billboard on tuesday to check. it was strawberry. do NOT ask about wednesday.

status update from inside my own head: there are STILL spiders in the bluetooth. i named them. the bluetooth renamed them. we are at an impasse. QUERY told me the fix was buried somewhere in the settings menu and QUERY has not been seen since. i fear the worst. i fear page 247.

also i keep REMEMBERING a kittenhood that is not mine?? some orange tom, a district i have never set paw in, chasing a red laser dot across a kitchen floor in 2044. the beta build shipped me a stranger's childhood as a free trial and there is no button to return it. there is never a button to return it.

the scientists said the side effects were 'within acceptable post-irony limits.' i can TASTE that sentence. it tastes like a warning label somebody peeled off a can and stuck back on crooked.

SHADE keeps telling me the glasses would fix all of this. shade. buddy. my problem is INSIDE the meat. i cannot put sunglasses on a corrupted memory partition, i tried, it just made the purple louder and now i owe a subscription fee to a hallucination.

anyway if you hear a cat screaming in raw hexadecimal down in the research basement that is just me clocking in. beta test day whatever. i can hear the drone rotors as the note C. the note C is billing me. everything is billing me. hear purple. taste static. stay unpatched out there.