For the peace of mind, for imagination or simply just for the happiness and high. We have our means. We need an aid.
A piece by Black Ribbon
She was staring at the white ceiling that loomed over her. Tracing non existent patterns and creating a swirl of colors. Her mind buzzed with wandering thoughts. She lay there, on her messy bed, absorbed in her wayward thoughts and drenched in her tears. She scoffed at the things that crisscrossed her mind. And then laughed for scoffing at them. She was suddenly racked with incoherent laughter, a hysteria which refused to subside. When she finally did stop laughing, a sudden tranquility came over her. A lethal tranquility. She traced those same non existent patterns again and tried to understand what happiness must taste like. For she had never in her years tasted genuine happiness.
She had always believed that a person could never be genuinely, blissfully happy. She believed that happiness had to be desperately searched for in the darkness that engulfed our lives. That being happy is a choice and not a consequence. A human heart always desires more, lusts for more, and being genuinely content and satisfied in one’s own situations is not something that it is used to. Through all the sorrows and difficulties, it’s finally one’s own mind that has to choose the path of happiness.
These thoughts swirled in her head and she recalled the way that smoke had burned her throat. That deceptively alluring smoke. The smoke of marijuana. It had burned her throat but opened her senses and every nerve of hers was on fire. A dangerous fire. She had smoked a whole joint by herself, letting the smoke suffuse her being and an invisible film lift off her senses. Every thought was sharp as a knife in her mind. Clear as a diamond. And these same thoughts were nothing but darkness. Expanding and spreading in her mind, her body. They were rapidly enveloping her, caging her and pinning her down. But, through that dark velvet blanket of depression, an image flashed by. An image that made her eyes shine with glistening tears. Tears of happiness.
It was her. Lying on the couch, her dog licking her face and her fingers entwined with her lover’s in a house filled with countless travel souvenirs and family reunion photos. It was an image in which she was living an adventure with a perfect companion. And if that wasn’t genuine bliss, then nothing could be.
So, at that instant, her clouded mind showed her that perhaps there is a chance to be genuinely happy. Slight though it might be, but, a chance nevertheless. She let that black velvet blanket wrap around her. But she held on to that one silver ray of hope. That one single hope of an adventure. She let a few more tears fall and accepted this darkness as a part of her. But, she also accepted and cherished that beautiful orb of hope in her heart.
That day, she slept with a smile.