Haze Days

The VIVID HINT
The dawn and the dusk
The waning and the waxing
The rise and the fall
The core and the suburb
The stride and the stumble
It’s funny how time takes you from one extreme to the other. One moment you are everything and the very next you are insignificant. Last time I checked I was this guy, smiling his way through the rubbles. Now I am this guy. All I can do now is comb through the rubbles in search of something. What really? I don’t know. I need someone. Who? I don’t know. Life’s been tough. I am now so numb that i won’t even blink if someone were to get killed in front of my eyes. From where i stand i see people shedding tears for me. Relationships turn sour. And this rain that just keeps pouring down only exacerbates things for my disturbed inner self. Just as hope started to fade away came a lady. Her face mirrored the pain she’s been through since childhood. Her eyelashes are crowned with the glimmer of tears. She says fate never smiled to her. FATE. Such a big word. FATE, but what is it really? Just a bunch of letters rearranged into an innocent sounding word so people could blame their chronic failures and mishaps on it. I believe that she only failed to dodge the snapping jaws of jealousy and despair. Enough of that bitch now.
I sought refuge where I should never have set foot. This is my new haven. I’d like to welcome you all to my new world. That of weed, spiffs and purple haze. I love this sphere. I like to lock myself in it at times. If I could, I’d throw away the keys in a pool of acid. I believe that weed is the best thing to ever happen to me. It allows me break into sub-parts inextricably linked emotions and magnify it. In this sphere the distance between sadness and euphoria is measured in blink. Painfully dull objects now look so vivid and you feel drawn to them. It’s like I feel that urge to touch that someone who will not be named blamed framed nor defamed. The weed triggers some thoughts and spurs me to transcend my boundaries. The adrenaline rush I get from thumping down the accelerator pedal is so bewitching. But as soon as I sit back my mind starts to wander to places no one has ever been before. The music rocks your body like waves would rock a boat. But there’s nothing really to be afraid of. Because memories keep you from straying away from reality like an anchor would weigh down a boat. In this new world, you dare not speak above a whisper because silence is so soothing and liberating. Here you can bridge the gap between the soul and your body. And i glide through the unfathomable mystery of the woods. Sadness whittles away as you lay down there with heavy eyelids. The appealing condonation of our guilty souls makes it easier for my mind to sway with the rhythm. Your mind would sway but your body would just be in a state of inertia as your eyes would stare at the ceiling. The effusion makes you shiver and you start to drift away. The conglutination of my scars and wounds seem majestic and I feel good again. As that Nina Simmons track kicks in there is this ebullition of joy and the smoke drifts through my nostrils and into my soul. Images in my mind now flow along with the beats. The insistent bass thuds like footsteps on stone. The beat of the music make one with the beat of your pulse. All repressed emotions are freed. All thirst is soothed. This place is now a figment of my imagination. I am now nimble and I can now juggle with emotions like never before. The weed imprints me with its sovereignty. In the far distance I see a monolith of inner acceptance and faith and I let it guide me through the hours to come.
Then BOOM. Back to reality. Back to the harried routine. Everything’s so fucking dull. Stale. Stagnant and complacent. This place is the backdrop to my misery. Shit. This does not even deserve words. Fuck it.