Posts tagged with "marijuana"

This Is Why You're Not Allowed (Save It)

This is the rit­u­al.

We meet. Usually by Greyhound.

We get stoned. In the car, in the park, or in the apart­ment.

This is what we’ve been sav­ing for. What we’ve cho­sen to deny our­selves of, until the present com­pa­ny, so that the expe­ri­ence is more intense. The rea­son why we’ve with­held for so long.

We intro­duce to each oth­er what we’ve dis­cov­ered on our own. Songs. Videos. Experiences.

There is no pride. No bias. No judg­ment.

We cher­ish these times. These week­ends. These mem­o­ries.

When we can grow from one anoth­er.

Because we’ve grown from our­selves.

Assorted Daily Life

So yeah.

Got my hair bleached blonde. I’ve always want­ed very pale blonde hair, but mid­tone is about as far as it goes.

Trolley, Aaron, and wheaties got me Half-Life 2 for my birth­day. I did­n’t have a chance to real­ly play it until this week­end, but I decid­ed to play through Half-Life: Source first, because it was four years five years since I last fin­ished it, and going through the game again would help me appre­ci­ate all the lit­tle details being put into the sequel. The odd thing is that I remem­ber tak­ing weeks to play it through, where­as I start­ed play­ing HL:S Friday, played a bit last night, and am almost done now. It’s nice to be able to sit and play through a game, tak­ing my time, not hav­ing to wor­ry about class­es, or assign­ments, or tests, etc. This makes me real­ize that I haven’t real­ly got­ten into a game like this since I fin­ished uni­ver­si­ty.

Finally get to go for some pho with Loo today. We haven’t been almost two weeks.

Aaron bought me a quadruple/quadruple from Timmies yes­ter­day, and it was good. I’ve been try­ing to cut down on sug­ar and creme for years now, so four of each being so sati­at­ing (almost can­dy-like) is very scary.

I took my first puff from a cig­a­rette yes­ter­day. It was a Matinee Extra Mild, and it was­n’t pleas­ant. I was stoned, and the weed tast­ed way bet­ter.

The Ghost In The Shell: Stand Alone Complex tracks that Number18 sent me are amaz­ing. She rules.

Been busy as fuck.

That’s all. I’m going back to sleep.

Self-Restraint: Tensility

Some peo­ple turn to pills and things
To help them through the day
To take them up or down or just
To ease the blues away
But me I real­ly want to feel
The ups and downs of life so real
Happy or sad emo­tions reign
My tears flow just the same

—Lamb, I Cry

I had been try­ing to write this for near­ly a month, but could­n’t get it down until I real­ly lis­tened to the lyrics of I Cry on the walk home past the pow­er lines. I decid­ed to split this up into two sep­a­rate entries, after real­iz­ing that I have two sim­i­lar ideas in my head, but two very dis­tinct issues. Perhaps it just took a few extra rough days of work to force me to think about this. All the things falling apart that I have to fix, respon­si­bil­i­ties, dead­lines, and tons of oth­er mis­cel­la­neous things are def­i­nite­ly mak­ing me think of ways to get the ten­sion out of my arms and shoul­ders.

Sometimes, when I come home, all I want to do is get piss drunk or mind­less­ly stoned. Maybe go reck­less­ly buy a bunch of things I don’t need, to make myself feel bet­ter for that lit­tle amount of time. Sometimes I just feel like doing some­thing irra­tional, even though I have no idea what or why, sim­ply because I believe it would get my mind of things. And yet I don’t do any of this, espe­cial­ly when I’m hav­ing a par­tic­u­lar­ly bad day, because I don’t want to be depen­dent on any­thing.

I don’t want to rely on nar­cotics, or mate­r­i­al goods, or self-muti­la­tion, or any­thing at all to make myself feel bet­ter. I want to be sure that I can han­dle things, no mat­ter what, on my own. I force myself to feel every stress­ful, mis­er­able, for­lorn emo­tion, so that I know that I can get through them.

Sometimes, every day can be a test. Music and writ­ing are the only things that I allow myself.

And some­times I have to tell myself that it’s enough.

Home For Bubble Tea

Thumbnail: Bubble tea shop

Went home for the week­end, spent it with Darren. It was a gloomy few days; cloudy, humid, and gen­er­al­ly uncom­fort­able.

At one point, Darren asked me if it felt like home, or whether my apart­ment here has tak­en the role. I could­n’t real­ly answer him at the time. I just knew that they feel dif­fer­ent. We lit up in a park that I used to play in while I was still in ele­men­tary school, and it felt odd to be stoned in a beau­ti­ful­ly emp­ty play­ground in the mid­dle of Saturday, sur­round­ed by all these upper-mid­dle class hous­es with their pools and patios. Places that aren’t com­fort­able, but famil­iar.