Light a candle. Draw the required sigils. Now, raise your arms above your head and slowly, gently, exhale your soul. You won’t need it here. This is Audioccult, and it’s time to get low. Illustration: Simone Klimmeck
Hey man! Hey, haha! Happy New Year! Have you seen-I SAID HAVE YOU SEEN TOMAS?! IS HE HERE?? NO I DON’T KNOW WHEN HE’S COMING! WHAT? IT’S A VODKA GINGER! I gotta go find my friend, be back in a bit! MY FRIEND! YEAH, SEE YOU IN A FEW!
I spiral up from beyond the claws of dissociative anesthesia and empathogenocide to see my lascivious and hated lover 2012 rotting away beside me. Gray world drapes me in familiar cold as I drag it to the curb for removal. Now up, up and back into the warmth of my penthouse shell as both ego and super-ego deign to bob to the surface at last. Thank god; my id was getting lonely. Hey, world. Hey, haha! My new 2013 is such a turn on to me. I start getting excited. I whip out a calendar, turn that bad boy to January 1st. I slowly begin to stroke my mental faculties—not with the urgency I’ve felt of late but with a slow-burning sensuality, becoming once more an internal lover, mental-maintenance inamorato. Out with the cold, in with the now. Fever-slick and honey-sticky my imagined hands work faster, edging ever closer. Yet something nags at me even as I bite my lip in self-congratulatory ex-stasis. That’s when I realize: I’ve forgotten to close my front door! I looked over and noticed it was too late. 2013 was looking in with a big grin on his face and a very noticeable bulge in his pants…