Story after a Bong
Zoe prepares a bong, carefully crumbling a strange brown substance into a tin lid. She holds the yellow orb in her hand, and then sucks from its rigid end. Katie sucks too. And then Eren has a go. After all the excitement a strange atmosphere developed around Katie. The room began to pulsate with the thrill of it all. The air was cloudy, there sure was magic in the air tonight. Jamie speaks of inglenooks. And the corner of the bed as Zoe caresses the end of the orb in her hand. I smile as Zoë passes me the smiling friend who I have grown to know so well. Jamie turns down the chance to suck on the orb, But Zoe and Katie have the rampant urge to continually suck the rigid stem.
Zoe is speaking in a loving tone into a small, black and blue piece of plastic. Tonight is the night that will solve it all, creating nameless faces in a giant sea of happiness. Elves will come forth and destroy our masters, raining acid, fiery ruthlessness. And in the world where Jamie and all of my friends live they are constantly striving for these answers and I, as their master will guide them into eternity and beyond.
The journey is long and treacherous but their desire and passion for the answers to these questions will give them enormous power and strength. Strength they never believe they had, this journey will mean they have to look into their souls. Some of them will not survive this as it will take courage, strength and determination. Only the strong will survive.
Suddenly a bumble bee flew past and a trippy hippy daze came over the scene, fairies skipped lightly as feathers in a springs breeze and we flew away to live on a cloud and sail away ...
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The journey is long and treacherous but their desire and passion for the answers to these questions will give them enormous power and strength. Strength they never believe they had, this journey will mean they have to look into their souls. Some of them will not survive this as it will take courage, strength and determination. Only the strong will survive.
Suddenly a bumble bee flew past and a trippy hippy daze came over the scene, fairies skipped lightly as feathers in a springs breeze and we flew away to live on a cloud and sail away for forever and a day. Liquidous substances poured through the rocks, glittering like gold dust in the sun, lazy summers floating through trees . Sinking. Drowning. arrrrggggghhhhh. I wake up on a golden shore, am I in heaven, someone is passing me something, is it.......? No it can't be. But yes! It is. The glorious yellow orb comes into view, shining with joy and wonder. The smiling face comforts me and reminds me of times of old, times with friends old and new, the orb has seen me at my lowest and my highest. Was this a metaphor for the challenge that awaited me on this golden shore.
A sense of realism comes across me in a sudden freak wave. Where am I,am I alone and what does the future hold. These are the questions I ask, but the answers I do not know, as I turn and face the calm sea the rays of a golden sunshine beat down on me, the sun blurs my vision as I turn round a feint figure comes across the horizon, I cant make it out, it comes closer and closer until suddenly I know what it is.
It's a rather large Owl...... swooping... hooting but rather than a hoot I hear music so sweet my bones bleed with the passion of my ancestors, I felt free and saw truth and danced with her. We danced for hours on the glistening sand until the tranquil sun was submerged in the sea. The red and purples which lit up the sky added to my enjoyment, they made life seem so simple and calm, the way we wish it was
Randomness drug induced hazes, speaking of everything and remembering nothing. Living, but not quite. Do people look at us and cry for our misspent years ? No, for we are ambassadors, representatives for the right to be free, from the turmoil of every day life, throwing at us, new challenges and surprises as we lead each other into the great wilderness. What the future holds for us is unknown as we are the chemical generation, a group of individuals who gather on Friday and remember nothing until the cold reality of Monday hits us. The prices we will pay for our sins are unknown. But this will never change my outlook on this. I will every weekend be a free kindred spirit without a care, that's me and I will never change.
Anyway, the night was nearly over....the candles dripped wax and dawn was creeping over the horizon as birds started to sing..It wasn't quite that late though still early enough for the magic to linger a little longer. The obscurity of the evening still holds with some force but to our minds, warped by the substances in them it all seems to make perfect sense, smiling happy people, we are those people, living an existence of some hope in this world of confusion.
Why can I not stop rambling this shit, although of course it is all perfectly true, in fact I feel a sense of guilt for calling it shit, I take it all back, it all makes perfect sense.
