After the war I drank a lot, smoked a lot of pot and hash, but steered clear of acid as my mind was not in the best of shape back then. My advice, for what it’s worth, is stay far away from getting high. It’s kind of like living with a pillow in front of you. It softens the blows but you fail to see where you’re going. Same with booze, it’s a crutch only your fouled up leg never gets better, you just think it does.
Reality is where I got back to after stopping all of that crap. It wasn’t easy as I had to face none other than myself. I didn’t like what I saw. Who the hell are you and what the hell were you thinking being stoned 24/7? It isn’t a good look for God’s eyes is it? Oh, God is a falsehood? No, He is the reality that you’re looking for but you have that pillow in front of you so you can’t see a damned thing, can you? He is there now. He has always been there and waiting through your reluctance for self-discipline.
Self-Discipline is a sublime word. It is oft times negated by many of us when we are lost in our own minds hoping like hell to be better than what we perceive we are. It’s that pillow again, when you come right down to nails and hammers. You hold the nail and pound down the hammer. Watch the fingers if you’re high. Whoops! You were high.
Strangers smile sometimes when passing each other. For we that get high or got high it is the mirror that tells us the stranger was us. That’s about as dumb as we are able to get, and live through it.
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