Catching smoke, i came up high, and from high (above), everything is seen clearly,
what is truth, society and the whole world’s mother-father (essence) is seen
here, there is very cold breeze…
Let me, stay high high
life seems like a joke, I keep on laughing..
I am lying on grass, keep rolling and burning
the road of life is tough, blow out and keep walking
I came here in taxi, in a 3D dreams waterfall
all the clocks have melted, do everything in slow-motion
in your broken heart, put a joint, the world will be seen as flower-pot,
when climbed the peak of mountain,
I saw Shiva.
Here, there is very cold breeze
Let me stay high, high…
In the ambitions of life, happiness gets lost from life,
when desires create chaos, flush of frustration cleans up..
love, affection, vows, promises, all these are… mere irritants
important is this present moment, all else is worthless (like a shell)
This world is a stage, where all have to do their role,
have to make roll, and banana is a fruit
and not thinking about the fruit is the solution to life
Let me stay high, high…
And then for a second I realized, I wasn’t there. We were in Dwarka, a suburb area located in south Delhi that literally nothing there, according to the locals. We were on a rooftop of an army residence, watching planes back and forth above the airport with our mouth filled with an apple that we used as a bong before. I looked at them with a nearly dead, and grateful expression. With his countenance saying “you’re welcome”, he stretched the joint towards me. “Nah, I think I’ve had enough.” We danced the noon away until the sun set and left me with the most picturesque memories ever.
ingénue 