Let the record reflect that I am an indica man, through and through. Ain’t nobody got time for good vibes and the munchies; I need walking-dream shit to go to the store and stuff.
I give up on everything, except putting the pound on rich, old cunts that don’t take their carts back. Fuck y’all to pieces.
When I think of all the money I’ve blown on cigarettes, weed, records, and shirts, I smile and feel fucking great about it.
I do not consider myself less ignorant than most people. I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books. I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me. My story is not a pleasant one; it is neither sweet nor harmonious, as invented stories are, it has the taste of nonsense and chaos, of madness and dreams - like the lives of all men who stop deceiving themselves.
Hermann Hesse(via eyepostdoomudge)