Mary J.

Take me away.

It's 10:58 pm. Only a little over four ours since I've been away from my computer at work, yet this screen's been on my mind all day. I was itching to write while processing some orders earlier, but there was just too much to do. Got my headphones on, enjoying the sensual sounds of Ms. Jill Scott's "The Real Thing" soothe my soul. Let me light my blunt. Man, I've been smoking Ms. Mary J for, well lets see, I am 20, smoked my first blunt after my Grandmother's funeral, which was March 2002 I believe, so over six years. Damn. What is it about Ms. Mary, that keeps me so faithful to our one on one sessions? I can go without her, as I've done for long periods of time, but why do I miss her, think about her, feel as if I need her? Is it the incredible feeling she gives my body and mind, taking me on imaginative trips to fantasy worlds? To worlds I am not even able to describe. She soothes me, comforts me, and when I am stressed, she eases my mind. Reminds me to let go, and not too worry about the uncontrollable. Damn, she went out. Let me relight. Oooh. The exhale. It feels so wonderful, like the weight on my shoulders is lifted into the skies above. I can now reach, and break free of gravity and trickle the tips of my fingers through the clouds. The stressful day I had at work is erased from my memory, and a peaceful, tranquil, rain pours down on my skin. I exhale. Then inhale again. Seal my lips. And she flows through my lungs, though sitting up, I feel as if I am laying in a field, pillowed with beautiful, flowers. Tulips. Red. The smell delightful. It's dark outside. The sky perfectly lit. The stars beam as I gaze into this illustrious creation of God. Art at perfection. I love this place. I needed this place. I am at peace with the moment and in tune with all five senses. I can feel the grass between my toes, as I watch the moon fade behind the skies. My nose captured by the aroma of tulips, while my mouth is tasting the purity in the air. The sound. Piano. Such a melodic tune. Each chord flowing to the next, creating a harmonious ambiance around me. I must play. Man, I miss playing. Though I love to write, playing, smh, playing is powerful for me. I am high as hell and these sounds keep repeating themselves in my mind, like a broken record, can you hear it? Lol, nah I know you can't, I'm not that damn high. But I feel like pulling a bench up to the beautiful, grandiose, black and white keys. I want to indulge right now, and let this sound come to life with my fingers. I want the vibrations from my keys to flow through my body, and make me shiver. I want to close my eyes while I play, I don't know why I like to do it. But it really lifts me, I don't see who's listening, or who's not, I just see my notes flying up above me directing me my next chord. Damn. My unknown masterpiece probably won't last too long. I must play. Soon. Very soon. Lol @ this rambling. I just realized this was one big ass paragraph. I'll blame that on Mary J, so I won't feel so dumb. Well my mind is yawning, it must be time to lay in the bed and shut down so I am well rested for another stressful day. But I'll at least get to enjoy the anticipation of meditation as the hours unwind to come home to Ms. Mary J.