"Pigs" by Cypress Hill

Went to our friend's corn maize they run in soulless sprawling northern Va. today, and ended up bringing home a back end of a Subaru full of pumpkins, which made the all wheel drive drift and shimmy as all I could afford (credit check wise) was two new tires on the balded front ones last time and let the back ones ride. I told them dudes to move the back to the front but they didn't, fuckin' assholes. Anyways, brought the pumpkins home, took the kids inside and put them to bed and as the wife nursed the baby to sleep, instead of rushing to get inside and sit at the teat of the television, I carried the pumpkins, two at a time, across the yard to the stone altar, and set them up in a circle around it. Then went in and got the wife and lit a tea candle, to manifest the magic.
Blog will probably take a turn for something else in the coming future, as I always set up these odd parameters and this week, I got burned on the parameters. Things are moving right now for me, in a direction where I'm less likely to swallow a hollow point by the river one morning. At the same time, I've been faking the funk a bit. Shit man, I can think words in strange circles all day long inside my brainframe, but don't always put it inside this robot at the right angles. But I've been trying to focus on real things that bring me real satisfaction anyways. Life is short, and I've wasted a fat chunk of it with accumulated soul clutter. Trying to shake it off, and some days the thickets of brush around the edges of my brain are too thorny and thick to chop at, but I'm trying to get at it. But putting pumpkins in a circle around a strategically stack of stones seems right underneath the stars and the cool autumn air, and that type of shit has tended to reap better rewards in my life than any credit check ever did.