Drinking a glass of someone else’s phlegm. Making out with your dog. Caking your open eyes in dry sand. Swallowing a whole plastic bag then pulling it out again. A couch that someone slept on for thirty years. Fish feasting on a rotten human foot. Your butt pubes and your head hair swapping. Being locked inside your school overnight. A cop coming up behind you and holding your hand. The knowledge that one day your reflection will kill you. Hearing trees scream as they are being cut down. Someone quizzing you on the difference between a glockenspiel and a xylophone. When your flatmate leaves an apple core in the shower. Piping poo onto a cake. Fruit made of lipstick. Refrigerator drawer juice. Spewing in your bed with no way to clean it up. Pushing on your belly button and your finger pops right inside to your guts. Counting to a million. Slashing your tongue open when you lick an envelope. Soup made of dicks. Licking velvet.The dentist getting you mixed up with another patient and drilling all your teeth hollow. Being able to eat nothing but jelly beans. Everything you touch turning into a maraca. Pamphlets. Your brain leaning out your ear for a quick smoke. No more snakes. Your lips and one nostril closing up. Clocks that are triangles. Anything triangular. Fur growing on the roof of your mouth. Telling someone that you love them. Small pillows. Sniffing the wrong thing. The thought that there must be some way we can design guns so that they look less like penises, but no one seems to want to. Realising quite a lot of your body is revolting beyond belief. Being covered in scales made of toenails. Snacking on your cat. Splitting your fingers like kindling. Your flesh flaking away like cooked fish. Binoculars with the eyes too far apart for you to use. Books with vastly varying chapter lengths. Inside-out flutes.
Finding out that your own poo tastes like the most delicious thing in the world.