Marijuana is no longer for me. Some perfect alignment of my mind's flaws and weed's power has resulted in some undesired effects. I could write pages... but I'll try to keep it short. So I loved smoking. My first 20 or so times, it was great. I loved listening to music, playing music, talking, hanging out, driving, eating, everything. Then, gradually, and without me noticing it at first, the experience changed. I won't go into great detail about the individual highs leading up to my Worst Experience, but they were increasingly negative. One time, I thought I might have been experiencing a heart attack, but then quickly realized my foolishness; another time, I thought I was retarded, but then got over it, although not as quickly. One time, I thought that we experience the effects of smoking weed because weed slowly breaks down the mind, and the high is simply a side effect during the mind's desperate struggle for survival. Paranoia. The last time I smoked was an unbelievably horrible nightmare overrun by irrational, paranoid thoughts. I was spending the night at a friend's house. There were 3 of us there. I was enjoying my high until I laid down on a bed. In hindsight, all that happened that night was: we listened to some music, talked, and went to bed. But in that night, I experienced otherwise. I was slowly persuaded, by myself, that I was a completely different person. I previously thought that I was a smart, okay, nice, chill, alright person. By the time I went to bed, I thought: "I am a social retard. People sometimes hangout with me because they feel sorry for me. When they do hangout, they make fun of me upfront, testing my intelligence by seeing if I will ever catch on. They act like me in front of me, seeing if I will realize what they are doing. This entertains them enough to barely tolerate me following them around. Also, they suspect that I am gay. They leave me alone with others in a room to see if I will make some move. The band I am in is a joke. I am hilariously bad at my instrument, but they keep the band alive to be nice to the retard me. I always ask if we will play shows, they say of course, some day, but we never will. I just realized I'm retarded. I still know that I am academically smart (even in this state, i knew my SAT scores were real), but retarded in every other way." Everything that I saw, everything my friends did, in my mind, supported this hypothesis. The evidence seemed overwhelming; I should have realized it earlier. The worst experience of my life. It took me not until the next morning, but until the morning after that to get rid of these awful ideas.