https://photos.app.goo.gl/zvqWxHEz1hrVsZg2A
This day 4 years ago I drove from my spot in Grass Valley California to the Redwood Valley in Mendocino... My trusted sidekick the Subaru Outback can be seen poking her head out. Oh the stories that car could tell! If I wrote well about all the things that happened in and around that piece of machinery I'd have a masterpiece of debauchery. If I were so inclined and motivated to tell my tales and hone the craft of written word, you my non existent readers would be touched by the entire range of human emotion..
I am not compelled to divulge such intimate details for many reasons, namely I'm just not that into myself..And, I feel such a recapitulation would in some way encumber the fluid eternal sanctity of my cosmic endeavours.. Not to mention this is entirely the wrong platform. I'm not convinced such a forum exists in this day and age. People mostly don't read and are very much into themselves. I presume the literate masses would perhaps be interested in my life if they were restricted and held captive in a detention center. The same can be said for myself, I'd not be able to compose such a grandiose work unless I was locked away and forgotten about.
Go back 6 years to the day and I was in such a vile situation. At that time I entertained the notion of becoming, writer.I spent my nights awake in a bunk house filled with the gases and hot recirculated air of 20 odd deranged men, whilst they slept I fervently read any classics I could get my hands on. On this particular night which would have been my 15th night as a resident in a California corrections facility I was engrossed and mesmerized by the unparalleled linguistic adeptness of Hemingway.
I was not locked away in a nightmare, I was in Spain vicariously loving "Maria" the lil rabbit that filled my loneliness and confusion with hope, a hope that I could overcome this despicable and retched hole I'd dug myself into with years of terrible choices and acts..
I was not like these other men I spent my waking hours playing cards with. I had aspirations to rekindle a love supreme, and to share that ecstatic state of pure bliss within us all. To be love and nothing more. But, for now and too long to think about I was forced to look at myself and my life through a lens that was the antithesis of rose tinted. My view was blood stained, smeared with shit, and festering..
After two weeks sobriety was forcing a light to flicker and the inner mounting flame was calling me to go deep into the darkest recesses of my drug addled mind to see if I could harness the power of silence.. I remember the tweakers all thought that I'd smuggled some meth in my ass and that's why I never slept. Uppers weren't exactly my thing and this became clear the night someone did smuggle some ice in their ass.
A cheer of pure jubilation burst out from the shitter and after some procurement procedures from the fresh feces a double wrapped balloon emerged. The room was a buzz as the dealings, trades, and later fights would dictate which lucky inmates would get a line of tweek.. I was repulsed and kept my head in my book as the stench of drugs removed from an anus moved closer to my bunk. Finally, I was approached or rather given an ultimatum to take a sniff or suffer the consequences of being labeled a snitch if this lil party was ever revealed to the guards.
This was clearly a pivotal moment in my stay at camp so I did what I had to do and flatly refused to partake. The glares of already high as a kite eyes fell on me so I hopped off my bunk and got in the face of the antagonist. I motioned over to the toilets. This was the only place not in view of CCTV and served as the fighting ring. I told the "dorm dad" or "bunk boss" to also step into the ring. I told everyone else to fuck off!
Dude took his shirt off and took a swing at me, I ducked put him in a choke hold and told the dorm dad to look in the trash can and remove the false bottom. Upon my instruction my secret stash of pruno or prison wine was unveiled. I'd been winning oranges from card games and hiding the contraband in my drawer, a risky fucking move. More sketch than that I had been brewing up my wine at night when everyone else was asleep.
This solidified my rank and ended any speculation of me being a tweaker or snitch. That night we all stayed up drinking, dancing, and freestyle rapping. I made amends with the choked out dude and after this night I was confident I'd be able to do my time my way.
When this began I was going to talk about the 20 pounds of weed in the Subaru and the lsd and wine infused night to follow where I friended the woman that would become my lil rabbit on facebook. I was then going to go into detail of getting a call that next morning at 7am after no sleep informing me that my best friend had died from a drug overdose. This tragic news led to some serious introspective critiques and memories of those long nights in jail. I decided then and there that I was making this my last year in the wild west California cannabis cultivation and processing scene and getting the hell out of the states. I had no plan but I had all the motivation in the world and little did I know there was a girl in my messages that would remind me of who I am and that Shiva always finds his Shakthi.
The gods walk amongst us!!! 💀
Some may winder how a dude that tells people on here to stfu and what not can be a loving embodiment of eternal vibrations? To them I say I say what I feel others need to hear, or show what I feel needs to be seen.. Unless provoked i don't interfere or seek conflict. So if you come at me with some bullshit I'll simply reciprocate to test your ability to communicate.. Most simply back down and disappear some become steem friends when they get that my intention isn't too fuck people's instability further but to bring them into a filterless and fearless existence..
There is only life! 🍄
