The smell fills your nose before eyes catch sight of those yellowish dark walls and the flaming burner. Calmly burning on LPG flame it spits the energy that burns the asbestos sheet and burning quiet asbestos sheet passes it on to the beaker. The upright standing burner.
The dark one by one cubic centimetre cube is small but evident even from distance. Heating up. You take a peep inside and it takes you way beyond the external crude appearance of the cube into the molecular structure of it. Molecules combing in cohesion with each other, peaceful fitting into the fishbone structure, beyond and why’s and how’s. Solid.
The smell tips off your nose much before you see the green. You push the door open and walk in. Open plastic pouch and the spread clean white paper. Some transparent papers around and the matchbox. Parked where they are supposed to be. Hands move at the brisk pace emptying the tobacco and crushing it. The green makes you want to take a peep inside. And you see beyond the crumpled leaves, irritating seeds and the stiffened stem. You know this is it beyond any why’s and how’s. Solid yet.
The heat isn’t unbearable but just about enough for particles to unsettle. Move around, unsettle the structure and rupture principles of physical dynamics and chemistry. They move, reaching to the state where the energy they posses is beyond control. Is beyond to hold them back, and just before they lose the energy, they break lose. Liquid.
Music pours into your ears just as the liquid fills up the empty glasses. Hands moving even more swiftly and pushing the crushed substance inside. You roll. The music rolls. Smell still continues to fill your nose. Loosening your reflexes and inhibitions. Liquefying your stuck thoughts, breaking down the walls and pounding down your inhibitions. Liquid.
Asbestos seems to be on the verge of giving up but it holds on. Beaker shivers, threatening to break but goes on. Liquid molecules can’t hold it back. The shake the beaker further. Threatening it further to break and empower themselves to break-free. State they’ve never seen. Alas they lose the visible tangibility and break free. Gas.
Rattle of stone fixed on top of the Zippo and smell of fluid burning. A long drag and lungs full. Choke..may be a release. Nostrils left looking for trace of something. Body loosens, can’t feel its on weight and limbs so loose as if they weren’t attached. Brains shrinks and expands. And every exhale leaves you weightless. Gas.
Particles can’t be restrained inside the beaker. State beyond the state that was never achieved is being ventured into. Particles so unstable and high, can’t be refrained in four stinky walls of labs. Particles breaking free is all three known dimensions and many more, in all known ten directions and many more, not to return for foreseeable future. Stoned.
Light head, hi yet unstable, powerful, creative mind, loose limbs, spinning dimensions, ears flooded with melody and music, eyes blinding by thousand Suns, breathing nose and drying throat and flying mind…Stoned.
Neo
