7 + 8 = 2015 Hangover (But this living in the past, rather than in thee moment, is mindblowing)
Hadn’t had a hit all morning
It is true; I haven’t had a hit all day.
St. Mateo, pray for us.
It is a day to be on time in St. Palo.
You’ve probably heard very little about Saint Palo Alto the patron saint of Stanford University. Seems like ol’ Mrs. Leland Stanford moonlighted with her Presbyterian church in Menlo Park.
It may be best to be back among the brethren to living in the present. Remember, don’t space it out. Got the women waiting. Time to reveal all. Please try to be modest, sexy, hot, discrete, and understandable.
9:29 a.m. and all is a little blurred suddenly at this moment.
Good thing that I took a hit before leaving the train depot. Some sort of Sativa lozenge… honey-lemon they call it. Very tasty, fruitful, with a pleasant grassy taste.
The plan is simple. Heal thyself by the grace of God.
Take energy in an efficient way and rechannel that into the plan. Use 10% of brain cells to manage the execution.
Upon arrival at St. Palo we stumbled into the esteemed Opportunity Center for the Homeless. No way to see a counselor, so staff urged me to hangout and wait for something or other to happen; waste time.
Not to be deterred, I rambled out the door toward the ladies’ medical office. Time. OK. On time.
But this living in the past, rather than in thee moment, is mindblowing. Even if my consciousness was not too stoned, maybe I would not be so concerned and perhaps very, very, worried.