Sunday, December 13, 2020

1 Hour and 15 mintues


I am so used to having my own time, that now I look with dread at the clock, thinking that in one hour and 15 minutes I must once again be answering calls for budget. Working man's blues. I have: garlic to plant, cat-shit to clean, painting to do in the kitchen, I need to go pick up some christmas wrapping for the presents this week. It's obscene, and yet, it is the fate of hundreds of millions everywhere. 

Slavery.

Slavery is a human concept. As old as humanity itself, the wise and ruthless enslave the meek. We do it to animals too, chickens, pigs, cows. We are a wicked race. 

But everything is ok. Slowly, our economy becomes stable and we are able, somehow, to survive in a comfrotable and decent manner. We eat well. We have water, light and lots of gadgets. My little family: Rasa, Nanda and I. That's all. Syami is with her mom and Renata is making her own life without my help. The world is as it should be. 

So, now I am thinking about "hope". Specifically, my concept to create a healing toad space. A "future". A  plan. How do I want to live the rest of my life?

Little by little, my life will stabilize. Buying this department where mom died, for instance, is a good plan. Might not happen, but it's a good plan. Creating a terrarium for some toads, now that is brilliant. Writing the next great hit, epic. Short term stuff: try out the LSA seeds. Cook up some DMT. Cooking DMT has been my plan for so long now, that it's a weird kind of dream. And the fact that it failed (or succeeded depending how you see it) with my friend R, well, it's just weird. I am certainly thinking more in terms of keeping a toad or two and milking them. Stronger medicine, more complete commitment.We will see. 

 

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