False clarity in a smoke filled mirror

I find myself today wanting that thing I had when I first got high. That moment of clarity and joy I first felt in that ecstasy. That thing I chased for a lifetime and found it ever so infrequently as my life ticked on. I see distorted images of others chasing that dream found in the drifting refer smoke and in that distorted image that brings the promise of fulfillment. In that distorted cloudy image a false hope calls me to partake in the plush green sticky garden of cannabis and retrieve again the illusion of clarity and joy, calling me to live again in illusion.