POPPIES

Over the hedge we’ve come, through the field of poppies and the dripping wood. It’s been a great and arduous journey through the realms, as we’ve made it to the other side. What a gorgeous creation we’ve reached, isn’t it so? What a spectacle uncovered by the eye of our wonder.

More than often, we try to come here seeking knowledge and prudence, but never make it entirely. Only slivers of light through the door prove just enough to sustain our hopes for the future; a higher frequency in the present. Understanding your own mind and physicality - and coming to terms with it, is the beginning to all wisdom.

The phoenix must burn to emerge. Sometimes when I die, I go inside. Perhaps you must die inside in order to rise from your own ashes, Then you’ll know what’s right and true. Turning out the lights, I search for the gate into the life I wish for. It’s scary but it’s rewarding, painful and orgasmic; to make it across. To make it where I want to be. Finally.

But it’s eerie in the process. Sometimes it’s so arduous, I feel as if it’s better to give up than to continue moving on. Sometimes it’s so black, I forget why I’m there in that moment,

but time is an illusion and placement is merely displacement.

I contain multitudes, constantly shifting like rotating prisms, beautful and chaotic. I’m in essence, a universe. I contradict myself, for I am large containing many dimensions of existence, so I must cultivate. We must cultivate the land of our minds into the fruit we desire - that is true utopianism.

What I’ve reached through natures medicine is utopia in a higher dimension.

We must learn to reach utopia in our sober dimension, through creation.

Through personal development and righteous exploration.

Life is a journey.

Enter the gate.