Smoked some la-la-la this morning, even though I said I wouldn’t…
I’m a snob. I only smoke the earth if it’s purple or blue. Fuck that brown Jamaican dirt. I’d rather pass and wait on some government-issue, nutritious American Beauty plastic bag shit that makes the world look like it’s posing for an album cover.
...The kind of mind elevate that gives me inner visions, like Stevie Wonder.
There's barely any smoke when i exhale...everything goes straight to the brain and the sinuses...spark it everyday and the good effects are inverted. Shit this high-potent will chew up your nerves and give you a stutter.
But every once and a while...every now and then...when i want to really know something, when i want to take it on faith--to feel it but not be able to see it
when the high hits there's always a second in which i feel washed over by an incredible sense of loneliness.
it washes and it washes away
and the next moments are like a blood letting
a loosening of knots i'd forgotten were there.
(letting the shoulders drop)
I close my eyes and see myself in the crowd, in the yellow light of the show
A thousand voices and a thousand hands
A thousand dreaming hearts beat according to a thousand scheming plans
But there's no one here like me.
(please Hammer, don't hurt 'em)
come to nyc, MAIORIELLO
i had to copy and paste that cuz i wasn't going to remember how the fuck you spell your name.
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