Let’s Cut Our Wrist and Then Burn Down Something.

I’m really fucking high right now, so if this comes off sounding crazier than usual, (or better than usual...hehe) you’ll understand why, but I had to get high. I haven’t been high for a long time now, mostly because I just can’t afford to buy any. It really hasn’t bothered me much not smoking, until the past week or so. I’ve been feeling jittery, nervous, agitated, or high-strung, as my last probation officer put it, from the moment I get up until the moment I force myself to lay down for a few hours of sleep.

I’ve had this feeling off and on over the years. When I was a teen and it would happen, I would often find myself locked up either in jail or in a nut house somewhere. That was one of the reasons I began smoking weed... To help calm me down and relax me from the agitated state that my mind often goes to for no reason. Fuck both of those places! Being locked up when I’m in this state of mind is usually never any good... I’m probably going to cut myself with the first sharp object I find or get into some altercation with those who have me incarcerated.

I’ve been trying everything short of cutting myself, or fucking with law enforcement, to bring myself out of this unsettling mood, and nothing seems to be working. So, when a friend from Tulsa called and asked me to stop by, I didn’t hesitate. I figure it’s better to be high than to commit a crime, injury myself, or do something else stupid.

I was met at the door with a 6-point beer and a hefty blunt, which I lit before I made it back to his bedroom. We sat on his bed, watching the news and discussing the latest information about Michael Jackson dieing. Half-way through the blunt, I began talking about some of my stress from the past week, and before I knew it, my stress was greatly diminished. Shit that I had been stressing over, suddenly didn’t feel like that big of deal any longer.

I FORGOT all my problems.. hehe.

A couple hours later, in possession of a limited amount of marijuana, (in case the stress returns), I cautiously made my way through Borg territory, and safely through the front door to my nicely chilled home. After relaxing for a little while, I managed to get some laundry done, and the house straightened to acceptable standards. Next, I called my little friend, and of course she told me to come right over.

The effects of the blunt still lightly lingered, so when we smoked a bowl, my high kicked right back in to a nice and relaxed state. If only this shit was legal there would probably be a lot less killing in this world. I mean, think about it... For me... If I’m high, I’m engrossed in other thoughts, I’m not angry or thinking about smashing in someone’s face.


If you don’t light up the darkness, you’ll always being living in the shadows.