A TRIP TO THE GROCERY STORE
Walking To My Car: Feeling the outside eyes watching, I got into my car and drove off. With an inconspicuous glance, I noticed what I knew already. There was nobody sitting in a car watching. It was just a silhouette or a shadow. The Arrival: Jotting things down on my notepad, I worried about crap that might happen. Will there be a bad coincidence? ...a crazy synchronization? Avoid, let go, and be. Walking Towards The Store: I heard a horn behind me... Ideas of reference? Someone slammed their door... Thoughts of influence? Not good. I need that Jim Beam. Seeing a hippy in front of me, dreads and a low-rider bicycle, looking back at me, smiling. "I’ve seen him before, near The Cajun Dome." Walking Through And Inside The Liquor Isle: clatter clatter... muffled voices. chatter chatter... I pick up a bottle of Jim Beam. Walking towards the cola, I saw a glorious individual picking up an item.
...long skirt. Flowered shirt. Pale Pentecostal skin. Beauty in a precious moment.
Paying For The Items: “do you want a bag?” what’s that? “do you want a BAG?” oh sure
Driving Back To My Apartment: Chewing 3mg. of Xanax, with warm cola. I felt it kick in quick. High and driving with patience and serenity. ...patience that I rarely had before... While driving, I felt mellow and euphoric. No pigs around, No paranoia. Consumption And Indulgence: First I took a few shots of Jim Beam. eeeeeeyaaaa.... good shit on a cold dead day. ...shit I misplaced my bottle of Xanax. kitchen... bathroom... living room... bedroom... YES. I found it. I take 1mg of Xanax. Both Jim and Xanax kicks in. A gigantic wave comes washing away my scattered thoughts, racing thoughts, Anti-anxietized man I am. Finally I am sitting like Buddha on my green crushed velvet couch, drinking my Jim Beam in a shot glass. touching Nirvana. *** That was some trip, earlier.