This living in the moment thing is a nice idea but it’s just survival. Two bars of pick a song and maybe a hit of weed and suddenly a beach and flowers and the smell of coconut for example. Don’t dare poke around for the loss pleasure joy pain that lie ahead or behind that you would see if you could see, would let yourself see, over the high, high walls of this moment. But those walls are there for a reason. Anyway, there is more than enough inside them, usually, if you’re doing it right.


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