And now for an even more unexpected third installation of a theme that I had no intentions to write about.
I have to remember that the smoke beckons and bellows from the thrown of men and devils. I have to remember that I’ve come far enough to know that I don’t need to run away from who I’ve become. I don’t have to inhale a cloud of mysticism, myth, ritual, or spirit. I have to remember that my body has become a dwelling place and that I’ve no need to clear the air of the presence that occupies the room.
Drug culture is a dangerous culture. Cigarettes are shepherds and Marijuana is the gate wide and welcoming. Clad in a Lofi view and hours of beautiful music.
I have to remember that I don’t need to run away; for from what there is to run, I have already.
