The Hearty Explosion of Mundane Divine

He was disgusted with the quality of the cannabis they were scoring for themselves in the past week. Saying that he was ‘dependent’ was an understatement. For as long as he could remember, say a good period of a decade, cannabis smoking was more of a ritual to be looking forward to, rather than the mainstream chastising of it on popular media channels. Pure hypocrisy, as far as he was concerned, because everyone seemed determined to ignore the laws of supply and demand. Why, he had no idea about it. He wanted to know. The world needed to know exactly why seemingly natural economic laws were being broken in the name of morality, purity of soul or any of the umpteen adjectives people normally associated with cannabis use.

The cannabis market had lain the ground for the emergence of psychedelics in their full medicinal glory. Side by side, the cryptocurrency market seemed to be exploding as well, judging by the number of users and transactions in decentralized finance applications for borrowing, lending, derivatives and trading assets. While, whether and how crypto tokens were classified as ‘assets’ was a story for another topic, he couldn’t help thinking how easy it was to create a new token and assign a market value to it. What was the need to depend on ‘authorities’ and regulators when people could take matters into their own hands and be in charge of their destiny? Same was the case with cannabis. It would and had to continue in spite of whatever propapanda was on about it.

Lately, he couldn’t help but only think about money. He craved it in his bones; itching and writhing to do something, for the love of god. He had exercised after a long time today, after a break of around 20 days. He could almost smell the cigarettes and cannabis in his breath. He hated himself for smoking cigarettes, always telling himself that it was fine when he had company, yet he tended to carry over the habit over the next few days, before descending into a haze of screen debauchery in no time, draining both his will to focus and also his energy. For how long, for the love of god, could he continue like this. He kept hearing his Vipassana teacher, S N Goenka’s voice in his ear “Start again, Sins, Start again, Sins”. Today morning, Sins had heard the voice again. Clambering out of bed didn’t take a lot of effort as he had thought. Talking to people, in fact, owing to his lack of socialising, indeed took more effort for him.

Talk! Move! Repeat! He felt like screaming to himself. In a day and age of free information, he wished there were more wisdom. Here he was, simply wasting his energies in the pursuit of short-term pleasure and fun, screwing over his long-term wealth and happiness. Oh, how he wanted to remain young in heart and spirit forever. He wanted to be a leader even! Such desirable thoughts indeed, such wonderful thoughts. What did it take to leave his head for once, and make things work and happen in reality, he did not know. On no, he did know. He had to talk to people and share his thoughts. Fine, he decided to do it. He would start now.

He had just left the third organization he had been a part of. He didn’t think he was fit to work for anyone else. Everytime, the same issue had abounded. Lack of results. Lack of socializing. The same old acknowledgement that he had potential, talent blah blah. What was he supposed to do to be rid of this habit of avoiding people? He was convinced this lay at the heart of most of his malaise. Could he simply act his way out of it and rewire his mind in the process as well? Well, he had to try. There was no choice anymore.

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