Identity is a hell of a drug.

I set my alarm to wake up at 4:30am this morning so I could meditate and take a bunch of mushrooms at 5:03am so I could heal under the new moon of September while high as fuck on psilocybin and start autumn-leaf-pumpkin-spice- LeBron James-return-to-Cleveland-fresh. (What I’m saying is, I wanted to forgive my Prodigal son self and welcome her back, but really it’s not for … Continue reading Identity is a hell of a drug.