Time: 8:52
Music: Chicane - Behind The Sun
Drink: Apple Mutha Fuckin Juice bitch!
Here I sit in my office, my blinds are shut and my lights are off, and the only source of light from the display of my laptop softly lights my face. The music is low and consistent with my mood as I struggle to maintain a grip on the fading night as the sun begins to rise in the east and burn all the dew off the leaves of the branches on the other side of the glass that seperates me from the real world. I wonder what the rest of the world is doing out there, and what all those people are thinking about as they begin an almost involuntary trip that will guide them through the rest of the day; inertia creeps, moving up slowly. My eyes are still only half open and I'm still thinking about my bed and the way the curtains around it dance as the wind blows through my room and out to the trees just below. I spent the hours just before I fell asleep in something I would liken to a lucid dream, watching something more beautiful than the butterfly in that dream of mine and with a flutter that seems to mock my imagination dance before my eyes with fire and flame. Too bad the only thing I have to offer is the water in my glass to extinguish those flames. But I digress as I humble myself to my own opposition of the thought of something that could be, and only exists in my own shy corner of this collective consciousness. For what could have been and may never be leaves me feeling someone and something that has yet to be seen on this stage where our drama plays out. Exit stage left, as our scene closes for the eve.
I read a case study yesterday in the Scientific Journal for Phychological Discovery that proves that if you liked PeeWee Herman as a kid you are a complete faggot face. *just for the record, i did NOT like that show at all*
And there seems to be a bit of controversy lately due to the fact that I eat soy products, so I wanted to just get this out on the table to disspell any confusion that may be looming in the air. Eating soy products does not make you a hippie. Let me define hippie for you.
Hippie (Hip-pee)
n.
A person who currently or has previously embarked in any of the following : smoking pot, having dreads, wearing patchouli, talking about "the man" and conspiracy theories, gone for an extended period without shaving or bathing, play hackeysack, play bongo drums, listen to bob marley, talk about free love, talk about love, talk, listen to and/or attend phish or grateful dead shows, recycle, wear birkenstocks, wear anything hemp, gone for over 2 meals without brushing your teeth, made the "peace sign" with your hand, think the holocaust really happened (see conspiracy theorists), smoke american spirits, believe american spirits are good for you, say the word "namaste".
Now that I've made that clear, anyone who isnt stoned right now would be correct to find that I, in fact, am not a hippie.
Music: Chicane - Behind The Sun
Drink: Apple Mutha Fuckin Juice bitch!
Here I sit in my office, my blinds are shut and my lights are off, and the only source of light from the display of my laptop softly lights my face. The music is low and consistent with my mood as I struggle to maintain a grip on the fading night as the sun begins to rise in the east and burn all the dew off the leaves of the branches on the other side of the glass that seperates me from the real world. I wonder what the rest of the world is doing out there, and what all those people are thinking about as they begin an almost involuntary trip that will guide them through the rest of the day; inertia creeps, moving up slowly. My eyes are still only half open and I'm still thinking about my bed and the way the curtains around it dance as the wind blows through my room and out to the trees just below. I spent the hours just before I fell asleep in something I would liken to a lucid dream, watching something more beautiful than the butterfly in that dream of mine and with a flutter that seems to mock my imagination dance before my eyes with fire and flame. Too bad the only thing I have to offer is the water in my glass to extinguish those flames. But I digress as I humble myself to my own opposition of the thought of something that could be, and only exists in my own shy corner of this collective consciousness. For what could have been and may never be leaves me feeling someone and something that has yet to be seen on this stage where our drama plays out. Exit stage left, as our scene closes for the eve.
I read a case study yesterday in the Scientific Journal for Phychological Discovery that proves that if you liked PeeWee Herman as a kid you are a complete faggot face. *just for the record, i did NOT like that show at all*
And there seems to be a bit of controversy lately due to the fact that I eat soy products, so I wanted to just get this out on the table to disspell any confusion that may be looming in the air. Eating soy products does not make you a hippie. Let me define hippie for you.
Hippie (Hip-pee)
n.
A person who currently or has previously embarked in any of the following : smoking pot, having dreads, wearing patchouli, talking about "the man" and conspiracy theories, gone for an extended period without shaving or bathing, play hackeysack, play bongo drums, listen to bob marley, talk about free love, talk about love, talk, listen to and/or attend phish or grateful dead shows, recycle, wear birkenstocks, wear anything hemp, gone for over 2 meals without brushing your teeth, made the "peace sign" with your hand, think the holocaust really happened (see conspiracy theorists), smoke american spirits, believe american spirits are good for you, say the word "namaste".
Now that I've made that clear, anyone who isnt stoned right now would be correct to find that I, in fact, am not a hippie.
VIEW 25 of 28 COMMENTS
roxypixie:
Dude, first off, Nick isn't gay. He just thought you were really hot. And second. Naw, I ain't got a second. Too lazy. we should hang out or something since we're enemies and all. We can fight. TO THE DEATH.
kudra:
Roses are natural. Hippy shit.