Summers spent out west, barely equipped with shit. Two backpacks, two skateboards, and one round trip ticket. What I cannot count are the hits of pure, liquid magic aka ”Acid” I took, the serene hiking trails and the wonderful struggle I pushed on through while tripping- on the aforementioned hiking trails!
One week spent in Boulder, Colorado might sound like 7 days- and in some ways it is just one week...Those day, showever, are unlike any of the days I've lived in a myriad of decadent, fucking insane and outright unbelievable ways.
Without holding back- a day galavanting around the town feels more like a week. Could it have been the copious amounts of LSD that fueled my race against time?
Regardless of the why and how’s, the reality we existed within was not relative to time. There had been some sort of split, a timeless chasm- fragmented and demented, but beautifully rare.
