mecalito is good to me, he cruises through my thoughts at the right speed, my brain fills with his presence and warmth, i'm sorry man i say, i'm a fucked up piece of work at the moment, my lifes a fucking weird mess of fines and crap that don't mean anything anymore, how does that happen? one day a whole heap of shit means something the next it means less. i don't know, time i guess and perspective. im somewhat irresponsible about the details, i don't get it, i live righteous, pay my way, do the right thing and all the way there's the man, ripping me off taking his cut while fucking me over, it's not my society anymore, it's not my fucking world. i didn't ever want resources to run out, i recall running around skool telling everyone, the earth needs us to look after it not rape it, and get this, my teachers taunted me and humiliated me.
ahead of my time, always. behind enemy lines, always, that's me a freakazoid with a good heart and a sense of humour, the worst kind. the man hates me. yet ironically he pays my wage.
so i drunk me some mescal and it's awful, i gotta say, i wanted to vomit but i held on, and then i lay down. i could feel the world dissipate as i closed me eyes, the oblivion that came was beautiful, warm and protective, caring and healthy, i felt loved and healed so that i can love and heal. i see know that is the true state to be in, healing. fucking imagine if the world just went into healing mode, everyone did their bit to heal everyone, the trees, the sky, animals, one another, the rifts, the distance the fucking sad loneliness between souls. i wake up, play with pan, do some work on the computer my brain working at a million miles an hour, everything in there, all coming together. im an angel dancing on a pin.