I totally don't get the point of massage. You lie down undressed in a warm, dark comfortable bed and pay a woman $60 to keep shoving you so you don't fall asleep.
WTH?
Anyways... compare that to smoking a pipe. My world has already slowed down while I'm picking up the first pinch of tobacco to drizzle in. Spongy comfort of my thumb covering the fragrant shreds, making it ready for a scorch. Those first few puffs a tease. The distraction of leveling it for a second light and then that big silky billow rolling out to the sides. It rushes out at first and then settles to a slow billowing roll while looking for my truck window. Seeing it, the cauliflower form suddenly leans that way, stretches toward it and quite decisively flies out to join the spirit world, blending in, invisible.
Then my eyes close, and slowly, when they open, only raise half open, with some effort, to reconsider the world around me. Now I am completely detached, a lazy observer. Someone else go do something; I'll watch. Body sinking back, settling against the seat back... or a tree... or a wall.... Tension falling away from my shoulders, just shedding itself from me, any signs of it fading from my brow. Tranquil. At peace.
Dp you know how much of my favorite tobacco I can buy with $60? How many times that means I can do this, over and again, every day?
And what's better yet, there ain't no lady poking at me to keep from enjoying it, either.
My money's going to better tobaccos.
Hell with that masseuse.
WTH?
Anyways... compare that to smoking a pipe. My world has already slowed down while I'm picking up the first pinch of tobacco to drizzle in. Spongy comfort of my thumb covering the fragrant shreds, making it ready for a scorch. Those first few puffs a tease. The distraction of leveling it for a second light and then that big silky billow rolling out to the sides. It rushes out at first and then settles to a slow billowing roll while looking for my truck window. Seeing it, the cauliflower form suddenly leans that way, stretches toward it and quite decisively flies out to join the spirit world, blending in, invisible.
Then my eyes close, and slowly, when they open, only raise half open, with some effort, to reconsider the world around me. Now I am completely detached, a lazy observer. Someone else go do something; I'll watch. Body sinking back, settling against the seat back... or a tree... or a wall.... Tension falling away from my shoulders, just shedding itself from me, any signs of it fading from my brow. Tranquil. At peace.
Dp you know how much of my favorite tobacco I can buy with $60? How many times that means I can do this, over and again, every day?
And what's better yet, there ain't no lady poking at me to keep from enjoying it, either.
My money's going to better tobaccos.
Hell with that masseuse.
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