This Is A Trip

I can’t feel my feet and can’t control where I walk anymore.

Just can’t seem to find any so called Freedom that people swear is all around. Even when I search way way down deep down inside. Doesn’t feel as though blinders are on, so why isn’t this visible to my eye? This is not a conspiracy, which you’ll see as we go on, so spare me.

For example, just recently….

Against every better judgement in the fiber of my being and every inkling of common sense, I looked directly into a portal to Hell and found myself moving towards it. Try as I might I knew the damage was going to be done and more was to come. Inhaling charcoal smog, feeling my clothes singe, and my skin sizzling like bacon, in vain. A dry spell nearly over which in the end, I knew, ends in a disappointing peak after an admittedly titillating foreplay.

The fire crackled in a mocking tone. I closed my eyes and in an instant was consumed. It gets tricky trying to describe an experience you’re only vaguely sure actually happened but, like writhing and drowning within a cauldron of The Witch’s Brew. A continuing running hot water soaking your head and your morality. It had a feeling, that would test relationships, wallets and loose bills, without a second thought.

I opened them and I was in luscious greenery and blue skies that a Windows background, same definition too.

Perhaps it is a Conspiracy. Far more than it can be a theocratic perversion of a truly holy theory.

Perhaps a Higher Ground networked through roots and blades of grass tread underfoot.

Oh Freedom, where art thou?


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