THE DREAM STATE

Over the past few days, while waiting for the bus to Heck in the morning (heading over to Marin County for work), I've noticed a somnolent colony of homeless druggies across from the stop. Rugs, blankets, the fentanyl inverted U pose, and occasional half-awake twitches. It's not the same as the cluster of meth freaks on the corner. There seem to be more opiod trolls, but significantly fewer speed users.

And a voice goes off in my head, grumbling old man-like. "I miss the old days, boy, when people were twitching and hepped all over the city, and we got things done! Not like these days, when they just drift zombie-like through shades of semi-consciousness day-dreaming! Useless vagrants! They should all be wired to the tits at this hour!

Unlike Grampa Narco, I think I prefer the modern era.


Logically, dazed people on the cusp of passing out are preferable to twitching folks hepped and paranoidly jangling all over the place, in motion all the time. You never know which direction they'll go or what strange ideas will hatch in their fevered brains.

Such as the fellow on the bus back to civilization last night.
Excited, and far less intelligent than he thought.
High as a kite on methamphetamine.
Twitchy, twitchy.

Sadly, for a man living in the twenty-first century, in a hip modern druggie paradise like San Francisco, I am by no means the most stoner-friendly of individuals. The only psycho-active substances of which I approve are caffeine (espressos, cappuccinos, lattes, kungfu tea, HK milk tea, a nice bracing cuppa, and the like), highly refined sugar, nicotine, capsaicin, and chunks of properly cooked fatty pork.

And by the way, the first named substance should be in a beverage that has come nowhere near almond milk, soy milk, oat milk, palm oil goo or non-dairy creamer of any kind.

Nicotine in the form of good pipe-tobacco, a cigar, or a smuggled-in cigarette.

As for the capsaicin and fatty pork, I think those speak for themselves.



You know, it's delightful further up the hill in the morning. No stoners or zonked individuals, and hardly any tourists speaking English. Too difficult for them to get to, they prefer the low-lying areas. One can smoke one's pipe in relative peace up there.

There really does need to be a caffeinated beverage establishment up there with a sheltered smoking patio that catched the early sunlight.



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