The universe seems to open up for the person thinking of it. For most of the movies and books out there about it, that is. It’s as if the whole universe decides to let them see why it’s worth continuing. Side quests and random relationships that change the whole perspective. I love all the different forms of media because I feel everything as if I were the main character. When reading, I don’t read and see what is described; I feel what is described, crystal clear.

When I first started smoking weed and ingesting edibles, I started to dream more and remember it. My dreams were always weird, and only once in a blue moon were they too real. One time, I took an edible and woke up, checking my arm to see if there was a bullet wound. Before getting shot I was engrossed in what was playing out in front of my eyes. They were talking to me but I didn’t feel like I was involved, until I got shot.

Dreams became another medium where I can feel a person’s emotions. Of course, the ones I know best and can understand are the strong emotions. I’m an addict of suffering. The amount of Japanese dramas and movies I would watch to have it tear my heart apart. The suicide ones always have a happy ending, usually, in some way or another. Someone, whether it was the friend who had to stay after the person was gone, or the actual person contemplating it. The air of hope and promise is so thick you can choke on it.

It’s amazing how fragile everyone is, yet we don’t speak it. It is also amazing what happens when we choose life. Such a beautiful masterpiece waiting to be woven, with others, with art, with love.