So, Friday I am hanging out with my lovely gay friend Austin and he decides he wants to smoke. I wasn't aware of what a fiasco it would be, just getting the weed, and once we did, it was the nastiest schwag I'd wasted my money on since.. well.. I don't think I've ever smoked anything so nasty, actually. I've smoked better looking cashed bowls in my day than that. But, I only smoked like twice all summer, and then I smoked like 4 hits.. and man, for as shitty as it was, I was blown. I mean, I was gone. My head felt huge, and my mind was in a steady stream of motion sickness, and all I could think was that the cops were everywhere, and all looking for me. I get so insane. I also thought my boyfriend would find out, since I had been telling him that I was sober for good, and obviously couldn't tell him the truth at that point. But mainly, I was scared.
But, in my insanity, I always get the clarity of thought, and I have to say, I really am a genius, if a slightly traumatized pyscho, when stoned. I can figure out almost any philosophical idea, and make them up as well.
I thought of this on Friday, and I've been thinking this ever since.
I am so trapped in a world of beliefs, and all I want is to have ideas. I don't want to commit to anything.. I can't even commit to what I have faith in. I am faithless.. but in saying so, doesn't that mean I have faith in the fact that I am faithless? Am I not free if I label myself as such? I am lost in my own labels. I've been trying to tear my skin off since Friday, just to get at what I really am underneath.
I'm just muscle and bone and calcium deposits. Life is too short to waste thinking about how fucked up my mind is.
And does anyone else have totally irrational thoughts when they smoke? I always worry that my breath smells bad, or my feet are smelly, or that I am talking too loud or too high or too fast. It's like I'm a movie critic when I smoke, and it sickens me how much I can see myself sometimes.
Oh, and if you don't like how you look when you're high, I'd never suggest taking acid while you're stuck in a basement. Especially if you have a sharpie marker, and are tempted to write all over things even when you aren't tryipping on something.