Realize a Dream

The Action - Rolled Gold
1968; English; Psychedelic rock; Dreamy folk and soul elements
http://www.mediafire.com/?9memlyxgywx

My introduction to the marijuanas:

My friend, whom had so graciously introduced me to tripping bawls, was kind enough to tell me that a certain highschool acquaintance of ours was a frequent ignitiator of marijuana. A small curvy gal with long blond hair, contritionally bleached in what I assume is a loathing for brunette stereotypes. I had many ties to this lass through highschool, though she wasn't someone I mindlessly loitered with. Nonetheless the chance to try weed was too good to pass up! I was even excited to make a new friend. Friends were the only thing decelerating my inevitable mental illness. Note: that's a joke, it was craftily avoided. I contacted her and inquired about the pot, expecting to be panned. Hohum! She was surprisingly helpful and even seemed somewhat genuinely interested in helping me out. We set up a day to meet, and I waited patiently.

After a few days, she picked me up from my house, and we went on to find a discrete place to test my herb. The first puff felt like a hole in my heart was mended. A rush of familiar smells and childhood feelings overcame me, and my senses were intimately receptive to the world around me. Not just the car I was in or the music that was playing, but the sound vibrations of wind, rippling off the trees like still water disturbed. I was lost, and my words of conversation poured out automatically. And I liked it that way; When I'm too focused, I have this habit of abstractly probing peoples' personalities by asking them inane questions. My neuroticism is an internal cycle that is crucial to the rest of my sanity, rest assure.

SO. The madam decided it was time to move the car, maybe get some coffee. It was December, I think, and the first flakes of snow were hitting the windshield. My mind was exploding like it was reprogrammed to do so. Every turn and stop was oddly reorienting. I no longer felt like I was in a car; My senses were so deeply saturated in what was going on that I felt my own presence being intercepted by the presence of the terrain. The backs of my eyelids were painted in hallucinations of echolocation. We arrived at a gas station and perused the isles, becoming the proverbial kids in a candy store. Vividly imagining the taste of each and every pastry, chocolate, candy, cashew, jerky, and chip. I ended up buying Combos. Delicious pizza and peanut butter pretzel... Omnomnom! Unfortunately I was borderline incapacitated on the ride home and ended up spilling the Combos, which were not discovered for another six months. Whoops. She drove me around a lot back in those days, and I return the favor whenever possible. Another friend of mine from highschool was also a good friend of hers, and through this coincidence I was reintroduced to an old buddy! The three of us are like con artist superheroes now. Existence too profound to be jugged.

(Copyright) Pedigo's Pot Prose