Nah, you can still do cool things with a sober mind, you can still go places and daydream.
It’s once you start piling days up, once you get 9 or 10 white knuckles under your belt,, I dunno, it’s tough. Not hopeless, just tough.
Hard overcast today, deep temperature drops, I found myself stealing a moment and lifting my head up to it. Close your eyes and breathe.Point your skull up at the sky,Feel the cold droplets land on your face, breathe slow. Let it last a minute, don’t think “how long until this is over?”
Just breathe man.
I could feel the cold air piercing through decades of tobacco tar, the shameful swamp that is my lungs.
No drink, no stoned, no excuses.
I felt that shit.
And I was glad that I was there for it.
I didn’t even want to pour one or roll one.
The sweet spot. You should desire to stay in that exact slipstream of thought, looking up at a grey sky should give you all the stimulus you need, feeling some tiny fucking rain drops on your busted ass face oughta pull you right down to the Earth.
Wings clipped, sense of grandeur subdued, humbled and put in your place, once and for all.
That’s where I’d rather be, no doubt.
Facts. Real talk. On God.
I hear people get there through all kinds of methods, I hear there’s all kinds of tools out there, shit you can use to calm that brain down, naturally.
I wish I could stay there.
I wish it was always that easy to connect.
But in 8 or 9 days?
Mmmmm,,,,
Back to the cycle.
Back to craving,
Back to escape because this shit so blah.
Hmmmmmm.
I’m bitching, my bad.
I dug that moment though, those 45 seconds, before walking into a store and buying cat food, just felt like it,, felt like looking up.
Good shit. Positive vibes, so forth and so forth.
Kind of tired of YouTube thumbnails telling me what to do., fuck your self help, my problems are my own and you’re arrogant as fuck for even talking to me, dumbasses.
But I scroll that shit anyway.
dawn 