Isn’t it Wednesday yet?

I think and look and it’s Wednesday and I still haven’t let my mind wander to that 70s psychedelic mix I made, must’ve been three days ago now.

The last time was amazing, but I kept popping out of it to write.
I think I am afraid of having an experience that I can’t document, hell I can’t even see a coffee can without writing a poem.

Every time I decide to meditate I need one more cigarette first. Maybe some coffee, or a light snack, and maybe a quick redesign.

Isn’t it Wednesday yet? Yes, just now I have stayed up all night plotting out how an atheistic nihilism frees one to explore the ineffable. Frees one to explore the infinities from which we are projected.

I keep seeing orbs. Glowing in trails in and out of what we have to call reality. And glimpses of a face. And the magnitude of that. The split deep within of knowing that face and pretending I don’t. Pretending it could be something else.

The universe is full of magic and loss.

And I’m going to meditate.

Right after this cigarette.

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