By now you live alone. You are living off of fraudulantly aquired unemployment from a job you never had. It buys food, rent and art supplys. You have no electricity no trash service, no running water. You live primitive and get your water from a pump you drilled in the back yard. But you can afford the occasional bit of druggedge. You buy a dime bag of reefer and a couple hits of Flintstones Chewables acid. You smoke the dime bag in a joint while painting your cat Posha washing up on a wave with a leering crazy moon in the background. The acid kicks in hard! Many hours of madness follow. You finish the painting and its the best you ever did. You procede to have visions and you end up talking to a old wise demon. The demon warns you that dark times are comeing. That a fascist government shall rise to power and envelope pushing artists such as yourself will be persecuted, many will be killed or put into special labor camps. You know in order to be safe you must destroy all your art. But is it worth safety?
