The Longest Day of the Year

We smoked Black clover cigars and pot while a few of us read aloud lines and passages of Whitman, while the remaining few of us sat and listened. We were puffing sugar sweetened poetic looking smoke clouds from our pipes, through our eyes.
It was midnight on an insignificant Monday night, or Tuesday morning rather. Insignificant, except for that particular night we had begun with poetry, verse, and smoke had been the very same night as the one belonging to the very longest day of the year.
It was both peculiar and nice that the longest day of the three hundred sixty five day calendar year should also claim its brilliancy and renown in that it too also provided for the most beautiful night.

Any way, that same night, after we were lifted and high off of our drugs of choice, (unanimously: poetry and pot), it was then a single file line that the five of us formed as we all traveled silently though swiftly towards the destination. All the while, a mass attempt at a hushed laughter. Our minds, youthful, untainted, and influenced.
Quietly then, we snuck inside the beautiful house. We each chose a spot to sit and sing. We watched a movie then, in the dark of the house, in the dark of the night, at an hour more than midnight. And we watched this movie on a whim, this wonderful film which conveyed precisely the articulated version of an enlightenment. My enlightenment. Now everyone elses, for this film had been made decades before that night we watched it. I didn't feel selfish, I felt involved. I felt excited that an articulation of such has now been spread to four more minds (being that one of us had already seen it).

(Inconcievable.)

The movie ended almost perfectly in it's promptness as he said it would. And then again, in hushed movements we all left the interior of that lovely home and went again to our earlier congregation spot outside. It was now nearly three and instead of heading home then as I might have ought to, of course I found it much more pleasurable and beneficial to the self to stay and indulge with the others the contents of one of the most fantastic films we had all just finished watching together.

That day I had a cup of tea, cheese and bread, and another cup of tea. Soothed and enthused goes the feeling of my heart beat; dancing around, beating, burning, bumping to and fro off the cells in my brain. My youthful, untainted, influenced brain. Who knew a little sugar, vanilla, and chamomile could ultimately create such a sensation?

But, a sensation of what, exactly? It wasn't the night of, it was the early morning after the longest day of the year that got me so involved.