It would seem that we appear to be psychonautic explorers of this entangled mesh that we call space and consciousness, in constant pursuit of the “right” utensil with which to sip this cosmic lemonade.
Though perhaps we ought to start by tasting the offerings of the infinitely unknown with our lips first, letting it simmer on our tongues for just a moment longer, to palate honestly and taste truthfully its wholeness.
These citrus-induced fevers and fantasies can teach us a thing or two about embracing the sweet and sour nature of all things, so that we may begin to recognise and wholly experience the tragically beautiful essence of our outwardly finite condition. So that we may breathe into the godliness of all things, and not shy away from a world sprinkled in paradoxical infinites that rests inherently within the seemingly mundane and seemingly extraordinary ecstasies of being.
We owe it to ourselves and to the earth that we walk upon, we owe it to our ancestors who fought tooth and nail to conquer decay, to move beyond the forces of entropy with love, for love and into love.
So folks, when life gives you lemons, you sure as hell should make some lemonade.