feel like a picture

March 20, 2013


[hint: it’s a wallpaper, click to enlarge]



March 20, 2013

Ever have a day where someone tells you about something great that has happened to them and expect a lot of attention and praise out of you for it? Well fuck you, you’re not getting that out of me. Not this morning, at least. I’ll offer praise and attention when I’m feeling less like a cantankerous old man.

Good word, cantankerous.

I find that a lot of the time people tend to contact you to tell you about their wonderful news even when–and sometimes especially when–they haven’t spoken or paid attention to you in forever. They just want an ego-stroke, they don’t actually give much of a shit about you.

I am seriously having one of those days. I only want to care about people closest to me, not people who remember I exist when they want me to masturbate their feelings for them. I find it just about as ridiculous as an old high school bully trying to friend me on Facebook.

There is a reason why I live in the middle of nowhere, with just one person for company, and a smallish handful of close friends and neighbors whom I consider largely worth my time, effort, and mental masturbatory services. I do not do sycophantic fawning over people greedy for it.

I get exceedingly tired of people sometimes.


March 20, 2013

And fuck if I don’t feel like I fit in anywhere. Is alienation a symptom of bipolar disorder or am I just paranoid right now? That “no one understands me, baw” feeling. Ugh, I hate it, it is pretentious, but fuck if I don’t feel like I fit in anywhere.

But you know. Bawww, whine, whatever. I was raised to believe that nothing I said had merit and people don’t pay me any mind anyway, so I don’t feel as if talking about this feeling is–well, let’s just say that when I feel this way, another voice tells me “shut up, cuntface, who the fuck gives a shit” which is true, completely true, wholly true.


March 18, 2013

I just had such an enormous and heart-hurting pang of emotion that tears sprung and a sob escaped before I had even realized what had happened.

I was told this tonight, so I did, and I realized I was in the grip of a euphoria that was threatening to overrun me. It started with the news about the Higgs Boson certainty, that scientists were 99% sure they had witnessed an actual Higgs Boson particle–this floored me. I was alight with wonder and happiness, and literally nothing has bothered me since then.

When I came home I put a movie on even before I changed out of my work uniform. Zero silence tolerance, though there is zero silence in the house anyway, what with the cycling of a fish tank or two. Sometimes silence is wonderful, and sometimes, on days like these, it is not.

My brain is whirling. I’m still in wonder. A Higgs Boson!

No longer a theory–now we know.

Cannabis is helping wonderfully. I’m settled. I may not be able to decide on what I want to do, or what I want to say or see or–well, whatever–but I’m remaining seated. I’m not going out and doing crazy things.

Like I want to.

Higgs Boson.


March 13, 2013

It’s a good, lazy day. I think I’ll take a nap.

Little Piece

March 12, 2013

My preferred smoking method is a pipe; after that, bong, vaporizer, joint. Pipes aren’t the best way to imbibe cannabis–you tend to inhale ash and sometimes resin, if you don’t use a screen and your pipe is super dirty. But I love the art of glass pipes, bongs included. They’re beautiful. Pipes also collect resin, which can be rolled up into balls, sometimes in piles of cannabis powder (called kief) and smoked when cannabis is not available. Resin extract gives you a different high than smoking actual cannabis, and it is disgusting–it stinks, it turns your teeth yellow, and it tends to give me a headache, nausea, blegh, but it has helped me sleep in past dry spells, which is the most important thing.

I collect every last bit of cannabis that I can for reuse, barring seeds and stems. I will smoke 75% of a bowl and save the rest for the end of the week, when I’ve just about run out and am waiting on the paycheck / dealer. It doesn’t taste great, but it’s about ten steps above resin.

Seeds and stems can be recycled for things like edibles and teas, but I just don’t have the motivation to get that crafty. Plus, echinacea tea will do in a pinch if one needs a tea that induces a high.

People in town know I smoke; at least, those that smoke do. You have to share with the people that know you, in the event that one day you will need them to share with you. Cannabis culture is as unique as the area it exists in, and in our area, the community is linked by who you know, who has helped you when in need, and who has fucked with you or yours. Society is always a jungle, most especially when it revolves around a valuable substance.

The best way to conserve your cannabis, at all, is to keep the fact that you smoke to yourself.

Life with cannabis is peaceful if precarious. It’s a completely wonderful atmosphere–mostly, people are kindly and gentle-hearted, willing to commune with each other and help the needy. Mostly.

But you never turn your back on a drug, as Thompson once so wisely advised.



feel like a picture

March 9, 2013


[hint: it’s a wallpaper, click to enlarge]

about a high

March 8, 2013

As with anything you imbibe to induce a high, you sometimes get a little loopy. Too much cannabis makes me dizzy and quiet, because that level of high that is meant for sitting down and thinking deeply. There are many nuances of high that I have noticed in my experience of using, and as usual there are many different highs for the different types of cannabis just as there are for different types of cannabis products, such as edibles or topical applications. Cannabis comes in all kinds of shapes–food, lotion, lip balm, spray, plant, the possibilities are wide and far.

The high that is necessary for me to be able to function is a level of high that I try to maintain throughout my day, barring work. I have a flexible work schedule that keeps me at five hour shifts with a few eight hours here and there; this allows me to keep my stress levels down and my working levels up, so that I get in actual exercise in a day, which is very important. It also means that I am never too long without my medicine. I carry my pills with me everywhere unless I have already taken my dosage. I do not carry cannabis with me out of the house unless I am on an extended trip or running an errand that takes longer than an hour. On this note, I do not find that my driving is in any way inhibited after smoking cannabis–in fact, I am a very defensive driver who pays excellent attention to the road. I think that cannabis’s influence has gotten me to slow down and pay more attention than I did, and it keeps me from floating off into la-la-land.

I smoke throughout the day as I can, maintaining a level of alertness without being introverted. Yes, cannabis changes my thinking–I am more vocal after smoking, more creative, sometimes comedic, all of the time joyous. Cannabis brings a middling-out to my moods almost immediately. If there is depression, I start thinking differently after smoking, and it ebbs away. If I am euphoric or manic, the cannabis slows me down and brings me back to a focused, manageable current.

It also chases away all insomnia. Think about that for a moment: no insomnia, at all, for a bipolar person. Whoa. I can’t describe to you the senseless hours spent trying to get to sleep, trying desperately to stay asleep, being unable to sleep because the dreams are not letting you sleep, being unable to sleep for longer than hour periods–and waking at each interval. All of that is gone in just three tokes from my pipe.

I pass out and sleep like a baby.

I get regular 8-hour sleep because of cannabis. I think that in itself is one of the top reasons why I smoke. No medicine, no other alternative practice, can give me pure, dreamless, uninterrupted healthy sleep like cannabis can. It is a fucking miracle.

The effect of cannabis is immediate. It is the most wonderful, flowing feeling. Granted, for first-timers, it might not work. That’s normal–you have to keep trying. Believe me, it will hit. It worked for Carl Sagan, and he had to try almost seven times to experience it. Cannabis is not a scary substance in any way. It is not unhealthy, it is not cancerous. It’s a medicine. And it does so much good for so many patients.

I have a MTWThFSaS pill box for my weed. I’m serious about treating it like medicine. If I show others by example that I consider this a part of my medication routine and not a drug to fool around with, perhaps some good might come of that. Unfortunately I have to do so anonymously for now, but maybe one day I’ll be able to stand up confidently without worry of losing my livelihood and say, I use medicinal cannabis, and I love the fuck out of it.