Drug Chug

I miss drugs. Not true. I miss weed. I did alot in my youth, slowed down in my teens, and early twenties. Now, it's just a whiff here, or a friendly breeze there.

But again, if I were on drugs as much as I'd like to be, I'd miss the absolutely ludicrious things I observe while being sober. I'd miss the amazing reflections one can see while looking into the saliva bubbles that babies make. I only stumble across beaten bums, and not dead ones with syringes sticking out of their eye sockets.

There's a fast lane on my left hand side at all times. I never noticed it before because I was always on it. Once I swerved to the right, I began to noticing the sunrise, and the solitary confinement it takes away as the night disappears, like a vast gorgeous dome being lifted, welcoming in the rays of something brand new as they are emitted from something that's been around for billions of years.

I've been laying off the science lately. I need to get back on track.