achieving my goal, though I was still an outlaw, I was becoming like regular people, my dreams and excessive enthusiasm was being dampened. I started losing my excessively high drive, and aspirations. All I wanted was to be alive and free, and to be able to relax but then I realised that that wasn’t the way of life, it was the choice mare sheep would choose, the choice to just wait around and follow the leaders when they move, the choice to never lead, never lead because of the need to think or make important decisions or use ones initiative or take the blame in the case of a wrong doing or never have to face the shame of failing and falling back to being just the regular sheep, indeed the lazy choice. If life was stress free, this would be paradise, heaven, we would be angels, and probably be able to fly as well. We were once spirits with no stress and came to earth to experience life, turmoil, in order to forge important virtues, both the ones lacking and the ones we already possess. Death is in fact a return to the spirit world, so to some wouldn’t be such a bad thing unless they thought or lived as if they were from hell. Of course life was meant to be an experience to write home about so one would ideally, regardless of what present or previous situations were, try to milk it for whatever it has to offer because ideally it would have a whole lot to offer.
I lived as if from hell, as if this was hell in fact, hence I was scared to death of death. Paranoia got the best of me, it got worse as the alcohol and drugs had their way with my brain cells, one after the other. I even got paranoid about being paranoid so sometimes I would hold back that next joint, especially if I had to go into the city during the day or any busy environments