So there’s this spring in Northern California that I went to as a kid…
It was the advertisement that sold us.
We’re talking water that was clear enough to see your feet scraping against the coral reef at the bottom; exotic fish that would do laps with you.
It was peace at its purest form, ya’dig?
So naturally, the parents brought an arsenal of psychedelics to have the spiritual experience – as well as their eight year-old.
When we finally made it to the Spring, the parents went on their hallucinogenic quest for answers and I b-lined it to the Spring – only to realize that there wasn’t anywhere else here.
In fact, it felt like nobody had been here in a long ass time – and for good reason, man.
The water was sizzling – like someone had poured something into it and there was a chemical reaction. I immediately recognized that I would likely experience long-term effects on the backend of my life by making the decision to enter that Spring – but peace, right? Fuck it.
Besides, everything still looked really nice from afar.
But let me tell you something – it was nothing but a pond trying to be a spring. You couldn’t see your hands in that drip and the only exotic fish I saw looked like a black piranha with a humongous set of balls.
In hindsight, those were probably tumors from the cancer that him and I were inside of – but I was naive enough to believe that perhaps they hadn’t cleaned the surface in a while. Surely, the gates of paradise would open up once I dived in.
Instead, it looked like a Tim Burton film down there.
Advertisements are funny like that, aren’t they Banzan?
At first glance, I look at you as you present yourself to be – Godlike, refreshing, decompressing – and when I close my eyes, I automatically imagine your wellspring to be a work of natural art – with naked ladies playing Tchaikovsky on golden violins with butterflies harmlessly hovering over their lady parts –
But as you grow closer to what was advertised, you encounter a terrible darkness – one that contradicts all of the bullshit that comes out of that mouth of yours. ya’dig?
There’s no peace here, man. Only war. Like that Spring in Northern California, it only takes a little bit of intuition for the right person to recognize that you’ve sold yourself as something that you’re not.
Thanks to Tenchu, we’ve all learned a little bit more about the sizzle in that wellspring of yours – and the festering cancer that acts like a skin at its surface.
I wanted to believe that the spring in Northern California was a true escape from the real world, just like I wanted to believe that there was legitimacy to the person you carry on as – but that isn’t the case, right Banzan?
You’re just another late-night advertisement, preying on the ones that are vulnerable enough to keep watching until their influenced.
As for me? I think I’ve had more than my share of Springs.
Time to turn that fuckin’ channel, ya’dig?