We could all fall under the influence of THC and write one or two paragraphs. Then we put it together, and print that shit out. Who knows, we could even publish it (doubt it). This is a plane still fueling up, maybe it will take off. I hope everyone uses proper grammar and spelling and such. Just get as stoned as possible, and let it flow. Stories, fictional or real. Thoughts. Et cetera. Not too long, though. I'm thinking like 2 paragraphs with about 7 sentences each, but I won't enforce this. This isn't solid. It's gaseous. Help me out.
Yo dis' one time we was rollin squad deep right and put from the night came a dude peepin' ti fight. We down, allright. So we get out the car and walk up the block, kids soundin hard when the talked but soon they was glocked. Was a little bit shocked but thats how we do it, talk shit to my crew and bullets the last thing you knew kid. Blood stains on the concrete and from 15's pumped then slow beats, but no beats for your blood, hearts turn into thugs.
Ya I got one. So Im sittin on the corner of my street. Little *****s rollin, actin hard, but still, I'm feelin the heat. My head turns sides, keepin an eye on it all, tryin not to end up deep. But in the end it aint nothing to worry about because whats it all about, gettin to the end so you can reep what you create? If thats the mentality then its a mistake. I take out my piece, let me restate, my gun yall, I take out my gun, this aint no game, aint no fame, its just to tes' who can remain. Fire a round to the sky, fuck this *****s, I wanna die. Aim at the face, and thats the end of my race.
The sound of the brook, ripe with cutthroat trout and beavers sang me a mellow lullaby. As I gazed upon the moonless night the wonder of the universe unfolded before my eyes. The milky way reminded me of my role in the bigger picture. I let my mind wander through a thought garden contemplating life and existance as I slowly drifted off into the nagual. I awoke to the sound of birds chirping as the predawn light slowly revealed the valley. The morning fog lifted off the river as the sound of lone wolf drifted across the mountains, bouncing off the rock walls high above and filling the still morning with life. I pulled on my jacket and fleece camp pants as I lit a fire and started to heat my water for breakfast. The warmth from the fire began to tingle on my cold skin and I snuggled in closer as the sun finally made its first appearence of the day. Its warm rays blanketed the brooks fog and sent it away. I could begin to see fish rising in the beaver pond. The air around me began to fill with mayflys. I said a blessing, lit my pipe, and prepared for another day of my lifelong study of earth.