"Maybe there is no Heaven. Or maybe this is all pure gibberish—a product of the demented imagination of a lazy drunken hillbilly with a heart full of hate who has found a way to live out where the real winds blow—to sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky, and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested . . . Res ipsa loquitur. Let the good times roll."
~Hunter S. Thompson
1 comment:
But Hunter, I did all that for a decade or two. It left me cold and flat. Didn't get arrested but fell in a dark Jack of Spades hole....Getting out took more years & was painful, ripping my fingernails to grimey shreds and my Addidas to ribbons of rubber.....but the spectrum of light tantalized me out of the cavern of no hopes...into a rainbow corona of pure energy which my spirit laps up when it can.... I know now there is a "something" guiding me, feeding me, teaching me, delighting with me. I am not a Hunter, but a Founder.
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