Sound system playing the melody of your forbidden trip.
I am seeing some flickering lights far away in harmony of continuous waves…
‘Love is rooted to our subconscious. And you need art to realize your subconsciousness’…my friend with an inclined joint saying these…
As the wind blows through the coconut trees, I am having a vision.
The vision to be in the soundless presence of creation…
it’s distant from all humanities and their struggling madnesses.

We all are smitten…
Me, my obnoxious friend and our conversations after a quiet smoke,
This enormous vacancy of destructible beatings has caught us off gourd.
Perhaps we can die in this night ocean…but we can never be unfulfilled in our understanding of death.

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Photograph: Google.