Tripped out
I spent days searching for those journals. Although its been years since I opened their resin stained pages, I clung to the notion that within them resided the onset of some powerful unrelenting wisdom..
Whenever I look back on those years, I remember my writing sessions. Ah Yes, nights getting incredibly stoned listening to Pink Floyd... Sitting in the corner, propped up by a polka dotted bean bag chair with my assortment of journals, bathing in psychedelic lights and marijuana smoke. Mary pacing the room being swept away by the music. The vibrations always intense. Each moment livelier than the one before.Every beat bringing us closer toward Nirvana. Every hit, each inhalation, a single laugh, all birthing the belief that God himself had revealed to us the secrets of life.
Tonight I was sadly disappointed as I re-read these supposed "messages from God" only to discover drug induced ramblings centered around my young and naive perception of love. And beneath those incoherent "messages" leaked my fears and insecurities about us. Every word painting a picture of the mask I had worn through it all.
Years later its all a trip! Time has washed away every brilliant idea expressed in those pages. Experience has corroded the foundation in which it was all built upon. Altering my perception of the past and defining the way I see the present.
Whenever I look back on those years, I remember my writing sessions. Ah Yes, nights getting incredibly stoned listening to Pink Floyd... Sitting in the corner, propped up by a polka dotted bean bag chair with my assortment of journals, bathing in psychedelic lights and marijuana smoke. Mary pacing the room being swept away by the music. The vibrations always intense. Each moment livelier than the one before.Every beat bringing us closer toward Nirvana. Every hit, each inhalation, a single laugh, all birthing the belief that God himself had revealed to us the secrets of life.
Tonight I was sadly disappointed as I re-read these supposed "messages from God" only to discover drug induced ramblings centered around my young and naive perception of love. And beneath those incoherent "messages" leaked my fears and insecurities about us. Every word painting a picture of the mask I had worn through it all.
Years later its all a trip! Time has washed away every brilliant idea expressed in those pages. Experience has corroded the foundation in which it was all built upon. Altering my perception of the past and defining the way I see the present.