Here smoke this - it’ll do you some good. That Chinese dope is compressed and loaded full of stalk and leaf. This skunk is all bud. It’s the filth - real heavy shit. It has a narcoleptic hit – a real heavy stone - full of easy drifting and sudden realisation. You’ll see around corners you never thought existed. It’s loaded with contemplation and shiny pipe dreams, but it’s all momentai - we’ll do that shit tomorrow.
Some ask me why I smoke the herb. It’s for the colour of rain, I say, for the music of the sun. It’s arriving by different routes to familiar destinations – for soothing the agitated mind and discovering new faults in my improbable machine. It’s for the correction of the heart – erasing the mystique of the subconscious mind and shining a light within. I step a little lighter with that heavenly mantle spread across my shoulders. I smile a little deeper for less provocation.