Sins wept in silence. For the umpteenth time that day, he tried to sweep his feelings under an imaginary rug, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t come to terms with the amount of effort that it took to create value, and then watch it disintegrate right it front of his eyes, helpless and powerless at the same time to incorporate changes. He felt like standing with his back against an infinitely tall wall made of concrete, while a giant bubble of jelly which signified fate, attempted to swallow him whole, while he valiantly kept pushing it permanently till the end of his life, never managing to impose his force on it, but always the other way round. He hoped to accomplish that feat someday.
Resources. That’s what he needed to become independent. Ideally, he would be satisfied if he was assured a lifetime of food and sex. However he was still coming to understand the mysterious quality of life or fate or creation or whatever people called it. It was this: Chaos was the natural law of the living world. There is no room to be static, if you do so, you’ll be swallowed whole, not in one good gulp, but slowly, painfully, making you rid of every possession you possess, most importantly the ones you adore most. Slowly and steadily, being static and relaxing, never pushing limits either physically or intellectually or both would cause one to wither away, akin to the continuous process of aging, which again is an analogy the natural law of creation: chaos.
Small increments everyday was his motto, which was easier said than done, since every increment of his was anchored towards consumption, not creation, because creating anything, from words, pictures, muscles or concepts was hard. It is much easier to consume more and more, small portions at first for the first few hits of dopamine to test the mind’s capacity, and then gradually addiction to consumerism. It was beautiful. Sins was a part of it, whether he wanted to or not. The trick was balancing the acts of consumption and creation. As the old adage went: prevent the excess of anything, because its bad for everyone except the one gaining currency for providing the addiction.
Sins had created a beautiful collage of words in school, when he was thirteen years old. The meaning of the words were very apparent to anyone who knew how to read English, and had a little knowledge about the human body parts, if it was about the opposite sex, even better. Sins had stood back to admire his handiwork on the walls, when a classmate had caught him in the act and exposed him to everyone in his classroom. Sins had bottled up the emotions inside him and the repercussions affected him for the next five years. He might have embraced them earlier, but he was an introvert and made to feel ashamed of what he had done, as if the act did not live up to his image and reputation. He had gotten over that incident when he got high on marijuana for the first time and laughed about it, as he remembered his school life in a series of flashes inside his still, wonderfully blank mind.
The intoxicants had activated the neuron connections in his brain like never before. His imagination had a life of its own, taking him across the world, from dingy brothels to the skies, where he would be flying like a bird, occasionally making a gravity dive to scoop up fresh water from a vast ocean, pristine blue, and accompanied alongside a friendly looking dragon, who had a habit of farting loudly. On some occasions, the image would turn ugly, featuring decapitated heads crushed by grinding machines into powder and impaled people, who were punished for deserting their responsibilities. Many a times, having passed out the last night to images of pleasure and murder, he would wake up at the crack of dawn the next morning, and watch the sunrise after hitting up a massive shot of marijuana. He felt the calmest at that early hour, when the sheer breadth of nature’s quality would envelop him in a sense of wonder, and persuade him of the divine ability of nature to create order when only chaos existed originally.
Perhaps the greatest sense of faith human beings could achieve was probably by marveling the bounties of nature, and strive to create things emulating the behaviour of natural systems on Earth, as no doubt technologists all over the Earth were doing at this point of time. It was an exciting time to live, in the sense that, miracles, breakthroughs of thought and intellect over new problems, and disasters are much more frequent than before, probably helped by the real-time level of communications we have developed today, which makes it seem as if all national issues were global issues and vice-versa. Issues and problems, both good or bad, are needed to be embraced, with joy and happiness, for the reason that it is only through new problems that new avenues of thought and action can be generated and solved successfully.
Marijuana Maharaj 
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