Hi

technically not dead, visited the site a few times, saw some people wondering… resisted the urge to reply, until now.

SP events happened to coincide with an opportunity for some KB (note: this is what my age group calls good weed; it’s short for “kind bud,” which indicates that it’s not “just schwag” or “brick weed,” but is instead, properly grown and almost always seedless); after almost 2 years of abstaining, for what had become apparently irrelevant motivations, i reached my breaking point, and really wanted some. The sample i received, turned out to be… well, i can’t say it was “the best ever,” but it was my favorite, EVER, because it was almost like some kind of magic brain juice; made me feel incredibly clear, sharp, almost super-powered, and i ended up having an epiphany, while successfully and simultaneously paying enough attention to a person’s anecdote (well enough that, after several minutes and topic shifts, i was able to easily recall and restate every key point they had mentioned, which is often difficult for me, even if i’m completely sober…) to not lose whatever they were saying.

I was inspired, got some of my own, and had a great 10 or so days…

But then i ran out, as expected, and, as expected, what always happens, happened.

Feeling better for a little while, always makes the return to “normalcy” unbearably agonizing.

I want to smoke KB throughout each day, for the rest of my life.

That, in and of itself, is the ONLY thing that has any chance to motivate me toward living life. It doesn’t “fix” or “cure” anything, and shouldn’t be expected to do so. What it DOES do, which is the whole point, is that it makes what cannot be changed, MUCH easier to bear (as long as you don’t run out).

So, in analyzing this problem, i’ve realized that even if i were able to do what is required, in order to sustain an uninterrupted, lifetime supply of cannabis, there are still far too many atrocious, deplorable, utterly unacceptable potential consequences, arbitrarily connected to this beautiful substance, and even if i could use this substance for its most useful purpose (alleviating otherwise immutable suffering), there are a bunch of horrible motherfuckers out there who want to severely punish anyone who would employ the primary usefulness of this thing… and the whole “legalize it” argument has already transpired, and been subsequently ignored, by “TPTB.”

It’s never going to “get better.” I mean, it can, but it won’t. Too many evil motherfuckers out there, and too many violent psychopaths wanting jobs as cops, and too many “liberals” (such an ambiguous misnomer) trying to control people’s behaviors. The whole thing is an epic, irreparable clusterfuck, and it’s utterly hopeless.

So… fuck this world. Fuck people, fuck this life, fuck this planet, fuck everything i ever have or ever will experience.

All you whiny, angsty, emo teens out there… this is the world you have to look forward to, in your future. I do understand. I was a teen once (and for 7 years even), and i remember how depressed and terrified i was, upon realizing just how bleak my future would most likely be.

Life sucks. People are stupid and cruel… and violent.

But for the most part, just remember: people are people, and will do what they do… which, usually, is “whatever the fuck they want to do,” even if that ruins your life. So watch out, and don’t trust anyone, and don’t allow yourself to be placed into a position where you are not in control of your own results/outcomes, because it is in those moments when the untrustworthy types will shed their masks, stab you in the back, and celebrate your arbitrary demise. Treat everyone like a wild animal; do not feed the animals, do not taunt the animals, do not get in the cage with the animals. And if anyone ever orders you “back in your cage” under the threat of violence…

Tear their fucking throat out.

So that’s way more than i initially intended (as usual); i just kinda went with it. Whatever.

TL;DR:

smoked some good weed, things got better until i ran out… exactly as expected.

There are many things i often wish to express to a few others… but i’ve come to feel that it simply doesn’t matter. There is much i would express… but i have nothing to say. I know some of you will understand why that’s not a contradiction.

As far as i’m concerned, my life could end at any moment… and it will never matter how i feel about it, when it does. I figure i should smoke as much good weed as possible, while i’m alive to do so. Nothing else makes me happy now; nothing ever will.