Love, Love, Love

Imagine a person entangled with his own emotions.

Imagine having two people stand across from each other at a distance. Both of you are standing on pillars with a vast abyss. For her, it may as well be a field of dandelions and roses and vast meadows. Now you pick one. Now you’re the dude. Now you’re the person who’s standing across from each other at a distance. You want to talk to her. You want to feel her. You want to caress, smell, and look into the eyes of beauty, but you can’t.

The best idea you can come up with to reach this object of affection is to throw ropes at her. Somehow rope her in to you.

You throw her the rope of trust, but she missed it. You throw it again and she catches it but then lets go. You throw the rope of endearment at her. She completely misses it. You throw your rope of love. She catches this one. You hold on tightly as you both prepare to pull towards each other. Do you pull her to you or get pulled to her? Whatever, you got her now do it. You pull with all your might, but the rope comes empty. You can still see her on the other side.

Now you’re broken. Scarred. Scared. Alone and cold. You sit there alone with all of your own ropes.

You’re afraid that the ropes might come alive and turn into snakes. Snakes that will wrap around you and choke you. But what do you care. There isn’t any breath left for them to choke you out of. 

MARIJUANA

WHAT THE F***. CAN WE JUST LEGALIZE IT ALREADY.