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Now you sit here with you alone in the semi-darkness of the room. Just you and the bottle in front of you, which is as red and dark as the heart of Shiva itself. You're afraid to open it a little. What will happen to you when you taste the content? What kind of pictures will you see? What gates are opened? What kind of trip are you going on? And so you open the bottle, on which a goddess is enthroned. And you already know it's going to be your undoing, but you don't care. Like so many things by now. Things can only get better! So you dab some of the essence on your pulse, some on your carotid arteries and some on your chest and lean back. You close your eyes and wait and see what stoned will do to you. Which one of her faces she's gonna show you. Which of her many arms will embrace you and pull you down into another world, into her world,...into her kingdom!
The moist drops you applied have not been visible on your skin for a long time. The sweet poison slipped through her like a narcotic bite. It flows through your veins and veins like boiling, sweet and sinful rose oil. Every cell, every fiber in your body is flooded with it. Gently you sway your head as if to a melodic-hypnotic music. You can hear inside how your vertebrae crackle, as if the finest and most delicate caramel is being grated on your soul. The fine hairs on your skin stand up and start dancing. It's as if love itself breathes its breath down your neck. Your own will has long since risen in the holy and resinous smoke of Labdanum. The heart is filled with musky-soft whispers. It pumps with every single blow abyssal sensuality and devotion through your body of tough rivers full of sinfully spicy vanilla. Peace lies over your soul like a web of sweetish brown-green mosses and lichens. It feels like a powdery soft caress of a person you once loved very much, still love or will love! Beautiful, unique and unforgettable! In the face of stoned, your smile freezes, that which you thought you had long lost. And with the opening of your eyes you raise your wrists and bring them back to your face and nose to taste the glittering, fragrant red dust again. Over and over again, because this journey should never end!
If it were stoned music, it would be the finest electronic beat. Soft, rhythmic, hypnotic, paralysing and narcotic. If stoned architecture was, it would be the Taj Mahal. A place of peace and never ending affection. If it were a feeling, then it would be that warm feeling you feel under your heart when love passes through you. Tingling warmth, longing and waves of the deepest harmony. With Stoned, Lyn Harris has not only created a perfume, it is much more an intangible, beautiful state. A fragrant journey that begins on the skin and ends deep in the soul. A fragrant, artful and charismatic "narcotic" and one of the most beautiful, olfactory perfumes to blow your head away in an enchanting way.
Stoned starts where Shalimar ends!