I know densuiken

There are few things of ecstatic beauty available to modern day man. There are the great projects of Gaudy, and the great ancient monuments, the sculpture of Michaelangelo; but, one has to travel far for such beauty. It is seldom possible to look out your back window and see the equivalent of the Parisian Notre Dame's great rose window gazing back at you. I have done my best to see these things, at great expense to me and my family, and I have discovered that no great artwork or architecture compares to the beauty of smoking from the smoker's point of view. There is great visual beauty The red embers of the tip of a perfectly rolled joint fractured naturally into tiny dragon scales, the resin winning the race against the embers for th lips, and the smoke rising in a pattern one can always predict but never alter. This visual beauty is of a degree that the greatest artists and philosophers struggle to match. Though this beauty is great thus far, it is compounded by many other effects. The olfactory sense is bombarded with a grand scent that one first hate then loves as dearly as the scent of your mother baking for you when you were young; while the throat feels something that is strange and confusing yet continues to force itself to hold strong for anticipation of a grand enlightenment. The greatest effects are those of the mind. The fear of being caught, knowing that what you're doing is considered wrong, the rush that any authority could explode through that door at any moment and put you through hell; that fear, though eventually lost to most, can give a rush great enough to compare to any great adrenaline sport. Let us not forget the most beautiful effect of smoking, feeling high. It can creep into your mind like a spirit and give you the ability to comprehend the most difficult of scriptures as though Nietsche were a puerile fool. It can take the role of a great procession, making much sound and fury as it is allowed into your mind, making the great simplicities of life into pure enjoyment. It can be a spiritual attack force, breaking into your mind as though it housed a great threat to the world, leaving you at its mercy to drea and do little more. When all of these wonderous effects exist in front of and inside of me, I am left with th conclusion that not great piece of artwork, architecture, or even nature can compare to that which I take part in every day.

I love wake and bake.

UMMMMMMMM OK :D

INIT :D

So true, everything made sense. Very well described.

:) :) :) :) :) :) That was sooo fun to read i am very very very high and iacan seriously barely read that many wordsin as row but you made me have to keep going, fuckin super fantastic awsome.... :)

That was awesome, I loved reading it! Now I don't feel so weird for some of my deeeeep thoughts. I love to wake and bake, too, more than any other activity. :p

hello maryjanemama,I love your collection of Betty Page avatars,I'm a big fan of her....bonbon, ps,sorry to digress,very deep zarathustra