Many a day, days past counting, I would sit down and begin to write... something. Most of the time I wouldn't know what it was going to be, I'd rev the engine a little bit, blow some of the carbon out of my jets. This is the reason I would take psychedelics, to offset the covering dust of the material world that, by degrees, would blur my (in)sight. The force of programming is great in these times. I find meditation and prayer to be a very effective counter-punch to the billowing, swirling dream dust, which radiates from the black towers of the lower astral plane. You can't hear it usually but... you can feel it. It transmits a general sense of fear and uneasiness, along with perpetual discontent.
So... here I am, this early afternoon, permitting my thoughts to billow and swirl like the aforementioned dream dust but hopefully with a more salutary effect. There is something that keeps coming to mind, It's pretty much always there and it's the result of all the other events and conditions that keep appearing in my windshield; Kalifornia going mad, the sharp political and social divide in America, the relentless pace of materialism ...and the crazy pursuit of convenience and appetite satiation. The hits... and misses just keep on a coming.
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