I am looking for my pod. I've been told by people much smarter than I, that this will never come to pass. My pod will be a few random loners I manage to piece together through a painstaking vetting process of pain and passing of time. I attempt to punch through my comfort wall and do things foreign and scary to me. That's life, right? Tonight I went to a 'Graffiti Collective.' 'Twas a mishmash of artists, musicians, drugged out dopes. I am drawn to the artistic. Knowing what I know about artists, for I once was one, I should know better than to enter my energy into such outings. I can't help myself.
Convo #1:
"I could do acid everyday and forever," says half in the bag corn-rowed chick, "Like, seriously...every fucking day."
"You could micro-dose," says random dude slowly being eaten by couch.
"I know, but then the micro would quickly turn into a full and then I would just be fucked."
This went on for some time. I feel my IQ dipping so I won't continue further.
Where are my people? Are all of the thirty-somethings married off, having babies and boring? Needless to say I left fucking early after chugging two pity beers and feeling sorry for the state of the world. Expanding your brain can come from more that saturating your body with chemicals. It can come from within. If you let it. We are obsessed with the now, that nothing of gravity is given its due time. I fear I will always be the one looking in from out, with greasy hands, tainted glass, and a sadness that permeates it all.
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