The thick, suffocating smell of
burning (liquor- store)incense
and marijuana,
filled the air,
of the dimly
lit room…
He felt light-headed,
eh,long-ass day.
Probably the stupid incense…
His mind, for the moment at least; was drifting nearby, somewhere alongside the thick plumes of smoke gently swirling around.
Soo slowly…
He thought to himself.
Then, without any sort of prior notice(not that he expected as much, his mind slipped back down to remind him of the day’s earlier happenings.
Suprise, surprise…
More shit to worry about.
He sparked up a lighter, and gently tapped it down to his bowl(a.k.a marijuana pipe…like?).
He sat there puffing…
…just puffing away.
Taking one last deep puff of medicinal smoke,
he slouched back, still holding it in.
pppffffffffhhhhhhhhuuuooooooo…
…ooooo.
…Annnd,
there went his tired mind again.
Adíos.
Weed used to do it,
just fine, in fact.
Well…
…for a time.
At this point, it,
like the little sticks of cancer in his pocket,
was simply habit.
For the most part, he was surprisingly alright with that.
It was the habitual life of mediocrity, which was more likely to be the end of him.
In all honesty, that, was his greatest grievance.
Continuous, perpetual mediocrity,
was his greatest fear.
He paused for, what must have been
The Philosophical World of B.M. StRiX... 