Anger

I’m starting to feel more and more like my old self. The self that disintegrated upon smoking Salvia Divinorum. That self was pissed off, angsty, and generally fed up with the world at large. I went through a period of self-loathing and growth only to come back full circle to the anger. The anger that fuels. The anger that gets shit done.

So be it. Feels good to be back.

Power

Real power doesn’t come from the material world.

Look at Bruce Lee, he’s arguably more powerful today than he was when he was alive.  In matter of influence, he still reigns king.

That’s power.

The money in your bank ain’t worth shit.

Chester from Linkin Park now commands a mighty army.  His death brought back fans who had long forgotten him. Now that we know how his story ended we can finally see it for the first time.

His words have new meaning.

And power.

 

Nature Is Art

I find it odd how often nature’s randomness can be more beautiful than our attempts to contrive it.  Like that sentence. I spent far too long on it rather than just speaking plainly. Yet, there is merit to finding the right opening.

There is beauty everywhere we look and yet we often don’t see it at all.  I find that odd too.

Sometimes I think I’m the only one who can see this oddness.

Most seem to just accept it. “It’s just the way things are around here.”

But why?

If you keep asking why enough eventually you’ll get to a point where answers cease.  Why is that?

We can’t describe color.  “Red is… reddish?”

Or sight to a blind person.

Music to a deaf person.

These are more than just concepts that can be articulated by the brain.

They must really exist outside of us.

Or something.

My World

In my world all drugs would be free. Anyone would be free to do anything they pleased. Clearly, if people had a problem with your actions you’d be the first to know. Acts of malice and deceit would be met in kind. Sure, innocent people would suffer, but they are already now. What’s the difference?

In my world everyone would live as they sought. You want to be a fancy, millionaire who does cocaine all day? Granted. Go live in your castle and leave the rest of us alone. You want to write a novel? Great, you don’t have to work another day in your life. Just smoke pot and stare at the screen all day. You’ve got 80 years to complete it.

I started fantasizing about what my ideal life would look life if I didn’t have to work and I realized I’m very nearly living it already. Sure, going to work everyday can suck but I actually enjoy my job and it’s teaching me useful life skills. Win-win in my book.