Thursday, March 6, 2014

july 1993 , whitman inn

the people of my community sent me away for a week or so...i specifically remember one hot , still , gentle night...walking down the country road with my amazingly amber beverage in my left hand...i remember the feeling that there was...not one fucking thing that this universe possessed that i desired...there was myself...the forest...and somewhere in between illuminated spiritual visions that , at least for the time being...were physically manifested upon this little blue planet...for me to embrace and hold in this unrestricted moment of joyful surrender .

vivid is the memory of what i was given...and apocalyptic is the memory of what was taken away .

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