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The Best Ciggarrette
1998-07-11 - 12:03 p.m.


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Notes From My Birth Week

Part 5a.

The Best Ciggarrette

 

After smoking pot on the edge, quite literally hanging on by the seat of my pants, I changed my location.

After all, I was at the edge, but still not at the spot I envisioned when I set out on the hike. The spot where the sun's rays had illuminated and made seem like so much heaven, if heaven was an illuminated red rock formation, when I saw it from below.

So I made my was down and around to the fore most spire, the one that caught my eye, and climbed up the wash.

I found my way out to the face, out racing my friend to get there and lay claim to the roost. I went out as far as I could, and smoked some more sensimilla. Nothing to hold on to, and a deadly drop awaited on either side.

Eventually my friend wandered off, up to his own part of the trip, and I sat, with a panoramic view of the city of Boulder and the Front Range.

What was I doing in Boulder? They kill their young in this town, and something is definitely Not Right. It is the far side of liberalisim. The facisim of liberalisim, and they invited it into their town, their homes. It is illegal to smoke in public in Boulder.

So I sat, and pondered, lighting up a Marlboro light, and feeling absolutely free.

The thought occurred to me, that whatever I wanted to do, if I did it here, there was no stopping me. There was no way to stop me. The cusp of freedom, because though I delude my self with the naive notion that I live in a free country, the reality falls quite short of the ideal.

But here, I was free.

Two Asian tourists being accompanied by a guide from the School of Mines (how dull is that), stopped and watched me. The guide hurried them along, and still they watched. They'd walk a little way, ask a question, seemingly on pretense, and watch me.

I reflected on the way I was sitting, and the place, and dammit, I was the fucking Marlboro Man.

NOBODY was going to stop me from smoking.

At that particular moment, there was no one who could.

Eventually, I stubbed out my smoke, and stowed the butt so as not to pollute, and climbed down.

It was the best ciggarrette of the day.

 

 


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