Pot
I tried smoking pot, just to see what happens... And nothing did. There's this dude in my class who gave it to me when I told him I was curious. I don't think he gave me some random grass in a bag though, I really think it was legit... But it was really anti-climactic. Well, it's wrong to say that even, because nothing began.
So a theory is, maybe I'm just naturally high all the time. I'm not saying this out of mere speculation, because I do have hallucinations at night before I sleep. In the darkness, my hand is black, but I see a muckish substance, like some black slime that webs in between my fingers when I pull them apart, and my fingers grow long like a witch's, scrawny, bony and lengthy, or sometimes just big all over.
Sometimes I close my eyes and mutter things to make the traffic lights turn, out of mere speculation that I have superpowers, even if it's as undefinite as an eventual turn of traffic lights, and I secretly enjoy it as much as imagining cars to explode or blow apart like the parting of the red sea, so that the traffic would move, sort of like a spell.
To enumerate all of my weird quirks would provide me for a narcissistic novel of sorts, so I'm stopping here. I'm not sure if other people do the things or see the things I do, and maybe some do-the crazy people. But I think what only defines craziness is our ability to differenciate what we know is the concoctions of our own inventive imaginings, and how we know society's notions of what reality is. Therefore, I don't particularly think of myself as crazy in a sense, but more of an unrestrained mind held by logical reason.
I'm kind of disappointed though, because I really thought that smoking pot would release the restraints that hold my logic to untap my mind's potential somehow, but instead, there was just a nice aroma and maybe a bit of the munchies. I felt and thought the same way, and I didn't even hallucinate. Alcohol does me a better job of releasing my restraints too.
Or maybe I'm just immune to it, having a father who lights cannabis insense all the time at home. Or maybe there is just something very wrong with me. I don't know. I'd like to try again sometime, because maybe I didn't do it right. Even the guy who gave me the bag was weirded out when I told him that nothing happened. To each his own, I guess.
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So a theory is, maybe I'm just naturally high all the time. I'm not saying this out of mere speculation, because I do have hallucinations at night before I sleep. In the darkness, my hand is black, but I see a muckish substance, like some black slime that webs in between my fingers when I pull them apart, and my fingers grow long like a witch's, scrawny, bony and lengthy, or sometimes just big all over.
Sometimes I close my eyes and mutter things to make the traffic lights turn, out of mere speculation that I have superpowers, even if it's as undefinite as an eventual turn of traffic lights, and I secretly enjoy it as much as imagining cars to explode or blow apart like the parting of the red sea, so that the traffic would move, sort of like a spell.
To enumerate all of my weird quirks would provide me for a narcissistic novel of sorts, so I'm stopping here. I'm not sure if other people do the things or see the things I do, and maybe some do-the crazy people. But I think what only defines craziness is our ability to differenciate what we know is the concoctions of our own inventive imaginings, and how we know society's notions of what reality is. Therefore, I don't particularly think of myself as crazy in a sense, but more of an unrestrained mind held by logical reason.
I'm kind of disappointed though, because I really thought that smoking pot would release the restraints that hold my logic to untap my mind's potential somehow, but instead, there was just a nice aroma and maybe a bit of the munchies. I felt and thought the same way, and I didn't even hallucinate. Alcohol does me a better job of releasing my restraints too.
Or maybe I'm just immune to it, having a father who lights cannabis insense all the time at home. Or maybe there is just something very wrong with me. I don't know. I'd like to try again sometime, because maybe I didn't do it right. Even the guy who gave me the bag was weirded out when I told him that nothing happened. To each his own, I guess.
Posted via DraftCraft app