Slash and burn, slash and burn. Waiting on divine spark, his joint was disfigured by his attempt at creating a life-giving fire. Looking for life outside himself, he was as disfigured as his joint. His creamy brown skin was mixed with despair, leaving bags of contempt under his eyes. He did not notice me as he walked in my direction. He was lost: deep in his forest, deep in his intention and deep in his pursuit of enlightenment. Yes, he was slashing and burning, slashing and burning and as I stared at him, I wondered what he thought he could grow with addiction? In that same moment, we locked eyes and words escaped me, “You don’t need that.” As he walked past me, he said, “I know baby.” Though I kept moving, he stopped, turned and shouted to me, “You ain’t never lied neither.”  I turned, smiled at him and waved my compassion. He was wrong, I had lied. My lies had lead me to look for warmth from trees that never catch fire and to get lost in forests of self-deception.