In these moments I have found a greater appreciation for my solitary condition. These moments have forced me to stop running from my mind and give up the trappings of materialism. Had I never known love, I would not have found a true appreciation for the most simple weed and the vast abilities of the mind. Through love, lies the desire to know something greater, which can only be “the self.” It is not a matter of rejecting loneliness, it is simply realizing that my life has been one of distraction and indulgence, neglect.
It is the plight of many to say that everything in our world has been discovered, mastered, and neatly packaged – but this is simply the lot of the lazy mind, which has been nurtured by a society with little regard for the spirit of beautiful wonderment.
To seek is the greatest gift we can give ourselves.
Inspiration is a process that starts with taking a long, hard look in the mirror.
I wrote these words many years ago. I loved them so much I wrote them out by hand and framed them in a purple, Rococo style frame…then, earlier this year, I had them tattooed on me in this font.
I still absolutely love these words.
They…whoever “they” are…say that inspiration can strike anywhere at any time. I say, hog wash! The only place I find inspiration is when my mind is at ease, at rest, and very much in the present. I observe things differently in these states. I have found these moments when sober…but they are fleeting and seem forgettable. Enter marijuana. It’s not what so many naysayers think it is…it eases my mind and body, releases me from the shackles of my reality, and allows me to dream! It is instant inspiration, instant imagination, but most of all, instant peace of mind…which is simply priceless.
Once again I have found inspiration from Carl Jung. “His” Facebook Page is an overthinker’s dream…pun totally intended.
Oh…and you can now follow us on Instagram @thesentimentalstoner
I wrote this awhile ago and stumbled across it today. It really captures where I was at the time…lonely, yearning, and a bit brokenhearted.
The moon glowed red tonight. The only thing missing was the familiar beat that reminds her she is alive.
Torn and buried emotions defiantly beat deep below the surface.
An attempt to hide. No…an attempt to deny her true feelings for the sake of a tattered soul.
She is reminded of you, yet she will not yearn.
The burial beneath the shadow is her only reprieve.
Looming is the resurrection of the light, readying to expose her once again.