Another day at the wax factory.
Churning the banana kush shatter batch.
Nurturing a drum of gorilla glue hash...
Trimming the M-13, priming the afghan.
Standing high above a fresh vat of our latest creation: hybrid sour dream purity.
Balance lost, tumbling down-my last thoughts, total repentance.
I have tainted that which I sought...
Breaking the surface faster than a bong rip-immediate THC absorption in every cell.
My body absorbs it like a sponge, and for a brief moment I am God.
Dissolving ego-along with my corporeal form-I have ascended this plane.
All material traces to reality-erased.
A corpse vaporized in a post-dab suspension.
Reduced to less than ash, caught in the winds of stonality.
One with the herba.