I step into the shower and immediately the conversation begins. That Platinum Bubba Kush goes straight to the frontal lobe and my brain just won’t stop chatting. And the funny thing is that I start out on one side of the debate. Did I say conversation? It’s a friendly monologue that winds up–in hindsight–having been a debate. Showering is so mechanical–leaves nothing but room for all thoughts and all processes. And the side of that debate that I start out on? More often times than not, that thought has just flipped and I step out of the shower with a totally different perspective.
Like a different man.
But really, just the same dude with the same thoughts organized differently. Organized period. And if that required some splintering and realignment then so fucking be it. And, yeah, the drug warriors are right: Nothing changed. Everything’s still the same. Earth still spinning, dishes need washing, bills to be paid.
That’s the fucking point.
Nothing has changed. But I see the same things in a very different way. Different ways. The introduction of new thoughts.