Post by mintedstar/fur on Nov 13, 2021 2:54:26 GMT -5
There is no direction.
You find yourself using arbitrary directions.
Follow the red carpet.
All the carpet is red.
No.
No.
Follow this specific patch of red carpet.
Turn the corner, down the hall.
There isn’t a hall.
I mean between the tables, the slot machines, the flashing lights.
Pretend you’re in a hall.
Don’t look up.
Don’t make eye contact.
Look up.
There are lights in every direction.
All the slot machines look the same.
Wolves, mermaids, ancient and outdated machines.
They show images of things no longer meant for society.
Mixed in with modern machines.
That you swear came out last year.
They all do the same thing.
Or they seem to you.
The tables are confusing.
An island here, and island there.
Run by humans? Run by robots?
They’re all the same.
They deal out cards.
Spell out a game you can’t understand.
Lights.
The air smells like smoke.
Vape, cigarette, cigar.
You can’t tell the difference.
Ash tray
Ash tray
Ash tray.
They’re glued to the table.
Or around.
Just around.
Someone blows smoke in your face.
You feel sick.
Deal the cards, place the chips, throw the dice so hard you step away, worried.
Follow the red carpet.
Follow the carpet that’s redder than the rest.
Don’t look up.
Don’t make eye contact.
Look up.
There are no windows.
Is it night?
Day?
Are you still on Earth?
Have you gone up the stairs?
Are you underground?
Are you fifty floors up?
There are no windows.
Low lighting.
Can’t see far.
Have to squint.
Squint against the flashing slot machine lights.
Squint to see the way.
Don’t look up.
Could you make a fortune?
If you paid a dollar or three, maybe.
Or lose it all and never stop losing.
Pay the debt, pay the man, pay the machine.
Don’t look up.
Don’t think about your uncertain future.
It’s more uncertain if you trust the man, the machine, the luck of the lady.
Keep walking.
Follow the red strip of carpet on a red carpet.
There are no windows.
There are mirrors.
Is that another room?
Or a reflection of this room?
You crane your neck
to see the groves.
Or the reflection of the lights.
Mirror, mirror, slot of sight into the next room.
Go up a set of stairs.
Claustrophobia.
In an open space.
Too many people.
They take the escalator.
Roman pillar.
Fish statue.
Fountain.
Smoke.
Performer.
What floor are you on?
Walk (run) to an exit.
Breath in air.
Look out.
Electric lights.
Bold screens.
“Best for Bets.”
“Nevada Welcomes You!”
“Free Shows!”
Pay them, pay them, pay them.
It’s night.
It’s day.
They shine the same.
You look back.
First floor.
Follow the red carpet on the floor to the red stairs.
Below ground, above ground
You exist in this space.
It exists.
Do you?
Pay them.
Find out.
Lose your time.
Lose your money.
Lose your way.
Lose your …
Lose you.
You find yourself using arbitrary directions.
Follow the red carpet.
All the carpet is red.
No.
No.
Follow this specific patch of red carpet.
Turn the corner, down the hall.
There isn’t a hall.
I mean between the tables, the slot machines, the flashing lights.
Pretend you’re in a hall.
Don’t look up.
Don’t make eye contact.
Look up.
There are lights in every direction.
All the slot machines look the same.
Wolves, mermaids, ancient and outdated machines.
They show images of things no longer meant for society.
Mixed in with modern machines.
That you swear came out last year.
They all do the same thing.
Or they seem to you.
The tables are confusing.
An island here, and island there.
Run by humans? Run by robots?
They’re all the same.
They deal out cards.
Spell out a game you can’t understand.
Lights.
The air smells like smoke.
Vape, cigarette, cigar.
You can’t tell the difference.
Ash tray
Ash tray
Ash tray.
They’re glued to the table.
Or around.
Just around.
Someone blows smoke in your face.
You feel sick.
Deal the cards, place the chips, throw the dice so hard you step away, worried.
Follow the red carpet.
Follow the carpet that’s redder than the rest.
Don’t look up.
Don’t make eye contact.
Look up.
There are no windows.
Is it night?
Day?
Are you still on Earth?
Have you gone up the stairs?
Are you underground?
Are you fifty floors up?
There are no windows.
Low lighting.
Can’t see far.
Have to squint.
Squint against the flashing slot machine lights.
Squint to see the way.
Don’t look up.
Could you make a fortune?
If you paid a dollar or three, maybe.
Or lose it all and never stop losing.
Pay the debt, pay the man, pay the machine.
Don’t look up.
Don’t think about your uncertain future.
It’s more uncertain if you trust the man, the machine, the luck of the lady.
Keep walking.
Follow the red strip of carpet on a red carpet.
There are no windows.
There are mirrors.
Is that another room?
Or a reflection of this room?
You crane your neck
to see the groves.
Or the reflection of the lights.
Mirror, mirror, slot of sight into the next room.
Go up a set of stairs.
Claustrophobia.
In an open space.
Too many people.
They take the escalator.
Roman pillar.
Fish statue.
Fountain.
Smoke.
Performer.
What floor are you on?
Walk (run) to an exit.
Breath in air.
Look out.
Electric lights.
Bold screens.
“Best for Bets.”
“Nevada Welcomes You!”
“Free Shows!”
Pay them, pay them, pay them.
It’s night.
It’s day.
They shine the same.
You look back.
First floor.
Follow the red carpet on the floor to the red stairs.
Below ground, above ground
You exist in this space.
It exists.
Do you?
Pay them.
Find out.
Lose your time.
Lose your money.
Lose your way.
Lose your …
Lose you.
