Sugar Mountain High XIII

It was not a bright summer’s day when Elmo had his head chopped off in a ceremony off-limits to all but a few. But I believe he died that day I found him. He was no longer conscious, and did not regain his senses ever again. It was an overdose of The Rush: that’s how we would describe it in modern terms.

The only outward sign that he was still alive was the trail of saliva running from his mouth. So he was fated to meet the end that he had designed for his tormentor and victim, Willie. They say that life moves in circles, which is not to be confused with the Circle of Life. But the circles are rather odd, don’t you think? Perhaps they are not circles after all, but epicycles, those figures which seemed to the ancient Greeks to explain the motions in the heavens.

I don’t know that I believe in Heaven. There is only the now. There is not even a past life, let alone an infinite future one.

I learned to manage The Rush, and now that it is so easily available commercially, if only because I have left the shelter of my childhood, I see many who have not. They have become bloated and prone to disease because of it’s misuse; their indulgence of it. I have seen what it can do, what it did to me, to Elmo. I lost my love, did I tell you? And Elmo lost his life. Is that not enough to make them stop? How many more lives will be lost, bodies wasted before we all say no to The Rush?

The Rush of Sugar…

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