Waiting for 12:01..........

Discussion in 'The Artist's Corner' started by Storm Crow, Jan 1, 2009.

  1. It's hard waiting. It's New Year's Eve, but my party will not start until 12:01. I sit in my silent, half-lit room, watching a sleepy fly crawl across the face of the clock on the wall. That skinny red second hand has never moved so slowly. It doesn't disturb the fly as it creeps its way around the dial once again. Will it ever be 12:01?

    At 12:01, the laws change. Tomorrow, cannabis will be legal. At 12:01, I will light up my joint and step outside and smoke without fear for the very first time. Oh, I'm a medical user, but that hasn't meant Jack. If they wanted to get you, they would. We all knew it and lived like timid little mice-- hiding in the shadows, afraid to be seen or heard.

    At 12:01, there will no longer be medical users-no more over-priced doctors granting you the permission to treat yourself with a herb; no more silent shiver when a cop car goes by; no more paying some seedy dealer the same price as gold for a handful dried flowers. No more, never again.

    At 12:01, there will be no more deception. I no longer will have to pretend that I don't need this herb. I can finally say, “I love this herb that has given me back my life! Maybe it can help you, too.” I won't need to camouflage myself in “straight” clothes ever again. I could even wear my peasant blouse with the embroidered marijuana leaves to work. What can they say now? It's just some pretty leaves now, nothing more.

    At 12:01, my job is forever safe. No more fear of a "random" urine test depriving me of a job I love and do better than most. What I do on my time, is my own business! And how I treat my medical conditions, should concern no one except my doctor!

    At 12:01, my world changes. Everyone's world changes. I have rolled a perfect joint for this occasion. It is a pale, translucent cylinder with the ends crimped tight. I can see tiny bits of the cannabis through the paper. It's my finest homegrown… as it should be. I'll be lighting up for all my friends and loved ones who didn't make it to today… David- dead of hepatitis contracted during "Operation Intercept"... Richard- an old beatnik turned hippie who just didn't live quite long enough... my Mom, who suicided because of all the booze and pills she used to kill her pain... Robin, who was deprived of her vital medicine by the DEA to die in pain, another suicide...and all the victims who were gunned down by the police or DEA like Kathyrn. Most of them are forgotten to all but their families. All of them are dead before their time. All dead because of the insane prohibition of a benign healing herb.

    My party isn't going to be loud or flashy. I'll light some Japanese incense, not out of paranoia, but just because the scent is pleasing to me. Quiet music will play and I will smoke while thinking of all those we've lost, all those who died in prison for trying to ease their pain or have a little fun, all those who have died in a "prison of pain" for lack of a simple herb. As I smoke, I will try to let go of all the fear, anger and pain that prohibition has caused. I will try to forgive. I do not know if I can. I will keep my quiet vigil until dawn, smoking and reflecting. I know this is not what most folks would call a party, but it's my party. It is a celebration of a long sought and hard fought victory. It is the celebration of my freedom.

    Just before sunrise, I will place my beautiful, secretly nurtured, closet-grown plants out on my patio for the first time. They will finally feel the kiss of real sunlight and the caress of the wind on their leaves and buds. I will sit among them on my yoga mat and just watch them grow. I will no longer need to hide my plants away in a back closet like some shameful little secret. My lights will be bundled away, to be used in winter only- or perhaps I will use them to grow some orchids. This is how it should be.

    As the sun rises, I will bathe and get into my old comfy “hippie” clothes. I'll take the bus downtown to the "Center". We are having an “Open House” party there in the morning. We are handing out hundreds of little baggies with labeled seeds, a low dose "edible" and 4 cigarette-like, machine-rolled joints- absolutely free! (A big “thank you” to our very generous friends!) I will be one of the people handing everything out. We have been planning and working secretly on this since we got the news of the law's upcoming change. You wouldn't believe how much work went into this! I am expecting things will be delightfully crazy- and that will be part of my party, too. But we will be doing far more than just throwing a party- we will be freeing people from their pain and giving them the way to grow their own medicine.

    At 12:01, long lost friends will begin to be set free from jails and prisons across the nation. A few may drop in to visit at our party, but I expect most will be going straight home- where they should have been all along.

    Knowing my crowd, we will rejoice, sing, dance and laugh our way through the day, smoking and vaping all the way. But that's all in the morning.

    Right now, I sit and watch the fly slowly walk around on the face of my clock as the second hand moves slowly...one...more...tick... I'm waiting... Waiting for the world to change at 12:01.
     
  2. Very nice...a short story shall do. :)
     
  3. ....................................?
     
  4. Where the fuck is marijuana legalized on '09?
     
  5. OREGON!?

    *crosses fingers*
     
  6. Lol, I'm sure it was just a part of the story / poem
     
  7. or maybe she lives in massuchesets(cant spell that worth shit.)
     
  8. FUCK! I just saw Robbie Maddison jump the arc de triumph!! Anything is possible!! Happy 2009 ! Smoke weed til I die!
     
  9. WOW! This is so sad, Im crying right now! Just think of how much less tense things would be if this hopeful story were true.....


    I just cant figure out the significance of the fly
     

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