In a flash, in a blaze
transmogrified by the miracle
of modern alchemy
to bygone days...
Perhaps, he had, "cleansed the doors of perception" a wee too squeaky clean, and what he interpolated and synched-up as "unburdened perception" was something of the order of random noise from the universe.
1. The Straight Life
2. Mr Clean
3. Here's That Rainy Day
A haphazard foray into a cleaner, unfettered state of mind might make a man susceptible to so much of the random noise of the universe, million dollar radio telescopes and all, schizophrenics blogging.
*Don't f*ck up, now, Vladimir.
Freddie Hubbard tried to capture the bluesy doldrum of clean living, finding, while drug-addled, they had wrecked their existence, all the trappings, home gone, job gone, girlfriend a relentless bore, and such other. A kind of relentless rhythm of its own to sobriety.
*The frazzled terpitude of self-serving individuals.
The blues guitar, a Gibson or Epiphone, ringing out and then melting like snowflakes of tiny hailstones on a spring day, looking rather superficially at the blues of the newly-sober, and that relentless rhythm banging out a newly seen truth which is the seemingly rather hard and harsh world of those newly-sober.
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