Wrote a narrative while stoned...

Discussion in 'Religion, Beliefs and Spirituality' started by Andys_Botanicals, Apr 5, 2016.

  1. Hey guys,
    Long time listener, first time caller.
    So I got pretty high last night, and at three o'clock in the morning, I felt a strong urge to write down these thoughts. I'm not sure if it's only strung together ramblings, but I ended up with this piece.
    It's a little lengthy, so if you've read up to this point and have already lost interest, I'd just like to say hi!

    The personal experience depicted in the following is a work of fiction. I, myself am a lone wolf of sorts. I use cannabis to gain a better introspective of myself and I like to do that best alone. Though I prefer to be alone when using this wonderful herb, I know there are a million more who wish to smoke marijuana with the same freedom tobacco consumers have. This is for them, and for a million more suppressed souls.

    My family is a large one. It is, in large part, this way because of it's diversity and tendness to stray from the modern family norm. By this, I mean that my family runs on a complex dynamic, much unlike the standard three to five person family. With that being said, my family is a loving one. My family, however, is not the exception of being a subconsciously judgmental one.

    My dearest family unit, comprised of three generations between fourteen people is a warm home to me. I will not name them all, but my primary focus is on a select subgroup within this fourteen person household. These are the smokers. Among these are the oldest in the home. There is Grandpop, Ma, Aunt Juniper, and Amelia. Grandpop smokes his Redd's Vanilla tobacco out his pipe and the women have all smoked cigarettes for as long as I can remember, except for those few short weeks they tried switching to electric.

    The smoking is never done in the house. It has always been sort of a ritual for the smokers to head to the little spare bedroom cottage in the back to get their nicotine fix. They've made the cottage into more of a den, with a couch and chairs and a table, standing ready to have a game of chess or poker played on it. For decades, the four smokers have used this room and their smokes to take short breaks from their stressful days.

    I've never really enjoyed tobacco in my life. I've smoked cigarettes and pipe tobacco, I've rolled my own, I've dipped, and I've chewed. I much preferred caffeine for the energy buzz. I have, however, still been guilty of being jealous of the bonds being shared with sitting for a combined thousands of minutes, communicating, and enjoying each other's presence. It was a close circle. It was also a closed circle.

    They smoke tobacco to distress as I smoke cannabis to achieve the same end result. These two plants, tobacco and marijuana, are different healers, and both the image of different times. I've kept my love affair with this herb quiet in most part because of my family's predominately conservative views.

    The unfortunate, yet simple 'Don't tell about me in order to keep enjoying me' philosophy has been complicated by the law, decriminalizing the consuming of weed for recreational purposes in the state we live in. It's now legal to smoke herb, but the stigma surrounding this plant is still very much present. It is still Marijuana, and is still a damaging drug in many folks' eyes.

    I cannot help but think how great it could now be to be part of this almost cult-like smoker's club. I'd have a reason to be there. I won't have to hide my taste for this lovely plant. I'm now working within the law. I even meet the twenty-one year old age cut. It'd be a weight off my shoulders to "come out". Now I am excited, and now I am ready... But then I try.


    I see Grandpop get up from his recliner and grab his pipe from the mantle above the fireplace. Ma, Aunt June, and Amelia follow suit and grab their cigarettes. My heart pounds hard as I decide that this was going to be it. This was when I finally summon enough confidence to do it. I slip off to my room. I skip the bong this time and grab a joint as to ease into this. I leave the house, through the backyard, and into the cottage. When I open to door, the conversation doesnt stop, as much as it slows down, with eyes staring at me from their corners as if I'm a stranger or an alien; as if I'm a lost puppy, looking in all the wrong places for home.

    I ask if they mind that I join. They agree with confused looks laid on their faces. I smile and take a seat on a chair in the corner. Their hidden glances finally end and conversation continues as normal. I take my joint out and light it. It was about 20 seconds after the first sweet taste that Ma interrupted, with a shout, Aunt June's ramblings. "Hey boy! What do you think you're doing? Huh? I know you're not smoking that weed in this house!"

    I say, "Yes ma'am. You know it's not illegal anymore."

    "And I also know that I don't give a damn. It will not be in this house, Travis"

    My cheeks are red. All four of my beloved family members are throwing belligerence at me about how stupid I must be right now. I am embarrassed. I am regretful. I feel stupid. I feel like a kid who has just gotten in trouble. I quickly leave, devastated.

    I finally feel irritated. This isn't fair. This is hypocritical even. Through the nasty comments pasted around it, I determine that the main arguments are 'What if the neighbors see?' and 'It's rude because we do not want to get high from the smoke.'

    Two ignorant worries that have no place being worried about. What if the neighbors do see? The same neighbor to denounce us for being cannabis consumers will look down on us for drinking alcohol. This is a new age, and people must either adapt, or be stuck in a miserably bitter mindset. Catching a contact high on the other hand? People are also known to develop cancer due to second hand smoke from tobacco. It's a statistic, sure, but it is not commonplace.

    I realize I am not angry because I cannot enjoy a smoke with my loved ones. I realize I am not even angry, but I am heartbroken. I am not heartbroken because my family will not have open minds toward me and my habit of smoking weed. I am heartbroken because I realize that the society we live in is no different than these four people that I love. People cannot bring themselves to change their narrow views on the new, and the changing, and the unfamiliar.

    It took many Americans decades and decades to finally accept colored men and women and children as people. These decades of ignorance were after colored people were legally defined as people, and not property. People today still have hate and prejudice for all things different.

    We will still not open our hearts and minds to difference. If this fact does not change , the goodness about us will continue to fade until we are driven into bitterness and unhappiness. Changes must be made onto ourselves, and we must learn to accept in order to be truly happy in this life.
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  2. Beautiful!
    Remember to take yourself to that special place and stay there as long as you need to. If you ever lose balance, fix it :) Trust in the universe and it will take care of you. Eventually everything will turn on the way you truly want it.
    One step at a time, but you must live what you learn to see results.
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  3. Didn't read it all but maybe when I'm stoned I'll come

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  4. Liked the first paragraph tho lol

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