Water Light and Weed

There's a lake not many people know about, where a fountain
creates a butterfly mist dancing on a shimmering floor.
It’s so radiant, I have to turn away after a while. It burns my
eyes. It strikes me as peculiar that such a thing of beauty to which
my attention and mind gravitate can cause such pain. Were my heart to follow suit, I would stare until my eyes become like dates that have been baking in the desert sun.

It’s just a fountain in a lake on a summer afternoon. It’s really just water, confined to one mass, imprisoned within land. And the fountain is just municipal water traveling through hardware store pipes and given force by an industrial pump. But when the sun hits it just right, well…that’s magical. Light kissing water…

There’s something poetic about light traveling millions of
miles only to touch water for a fraction of a second. Millions
of miles.  Just one touch.  One touch lasting the smallest
increment of time.  And only to then die in the viewer’s eyes…

Everything beautiful is tragic when you think about it.  But
thinking is overrated. So the chron I smoked when I woke up this
morning makes this moment more meaningful. But man, I hate this
Hallmark bullshit.  Any other day, thinking about fountains and
light is kind of pointless… except for today.