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Description
At the cabin at Gust Lake,
drinking Sam Adams Winter Lager,
smoking numerous things, playing music.
Swimming through some haze, talking about farts,
swishing galaxies between my fingers,
sinking warmly into a squishy fingerboard...
Can belief be circumvented?

The smell of multiple candle waxes,
burning on into the midnight stars
wordlessly meandering through cultural expansion.
A lantern hums,
hung from the ceiling,
everything counts when you have no light.
Grow stronger.
This is our glutony, our simplicity,
this sweetness, this luxury.

We smoke the good,
we smoke the bad,
making sure to dwell in purpose and progress.

Taking our time,
no need to rush,
enjoying the ride,
we'll die plenty soon enough.
And I hope you all die before me.
All in the name of progress,
all in the name of snoring.
When you use perfect effort,
you can do anything, no?

A holographic web of sticky sounds,
gubblygook slathers on our chins
as our mouths unfold
into a lava flow of asheous delinquency.
Conditionally.

I am stepping on multiple ducks,
or one duck multiple times?
We can only see better days in this dream about a lake.
We can only speculate as to the sound of elephant farts.
Uncomfortable laughter.
Candle shine, beer light, weighter line,
cocoa bean nirvana. Strichnine?

I don't need to sleep, I don't need to be awake,
but I've got a date with sleep, soon.
Why does our tobacco taste like gasoline?

Glass clinks. Is my mind working against me?

3 of clubs on a paper plate
a plan of lucidity

Just add water.

Riding high, we stay up all night, just to watch smoke and flame.

Green glass,
shivering opalescence.

This is what I see in this haze.

Description
At the cabin at Gust Lake,
drinking Sam Adams Winter Lager,
smoking numerous things, playing music.
Swimming through some haze, talking about farts,
swishing galaxies between my fingers,
sinking warmly into a squishy fingerboard...
Can belief be circumvented?

The smell of multiple candle waxes,
burning on into the midnight stars
wordlessly meandering through cultural expansion.
A lantern hums,
hung from the ceiling,
everything counts when you have no light.
Grow stronger.
This is our glutony, our simplicity,
this sweetness, this luxury.

We smoke the good,
we smoke the bad,
making sure to dwell in purpose and progress.

Taking our time,
no need to rush,
enjoying the ride,
we'll die plenty soon enough.
And I hope you all die before me.
All in the name of progress,
all in the name of snoring.
When you use perfect effort,
you can do anything, no?

A holographic web of sticky sounds,
gubblygook slathers on our chins
as our mouths unfold
into a lava flow of asheous delinquency.
Conditionally.

I am stepping on multiple ducks,
or one duck multiple times?
We can only see better days in this dream about a lake.
We can only speculate as to the sound of elephant farts.
Uncomfortable laughter.
Candle shine, beer light, weighter line,
cocoa bean nirvana. Strichnine?

I don't need to sleep, I don't need to be awake,
but I've got a date with sleep, soon.
Why does our tobacco taste like gasoline?

Glass clinks. Is my mind working against me?

3 of clubs on a paper plate
a plan of lucidity

Just add water.

Riding high, we stay up all night, just to watch smoke and flame.

Green glass,
shivering opalescence.

This is what I see in this haze.