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Guys,

A fully accessible convention with panels about disability and ableism. Chronic-Con

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I wanna get high witchu

Until this year, I was stone cold sober. I had avoided pot for the longest time mainly because drugs have always been this forbidden to me, it’s something that has been always just seen as “bad”, even though most things that have been considered “bad” has more or less turned out to be mediocre at best. Sex, alcohol, violent video games, masturbation; they all have a level of excess that I know where my limits are. Sex, probably no more than 10 times in a day; Alcohol, no more than 5 standard drinks, only 1 to get me tipsy; I’m often bored by a violent video game after about 5 hours, masturbating; more research required.

Pot, marijuana, weed, whatever you want to call it, seems pretty fine. It’s coming down from the pedestal which it used to sit. A mix between a terrifying substance akin to that of watching Alice in Wonderland at 3 years old with 5.1 surround in a dark and stormy night and a pleasant day in spring where the pollen count is 0, you’ve woken up well-rested, you’ve had a good BJ and you’re going to see your favourite comedy movie on the big screen. That pure energy and calm that you can only get from a pure and perfect day and more often than not, it’s been on the latter side.

As mentioned in previous posts, I smoked weed for the first time this year and it was a pleasant experience. Infused with tea and followed by a good session of just lounging on a couch and watching someone play a game of Bloodborne. I felt content. I felt well and who knows maybe it was a placebo effect and I didn’t smoke it properly, but I felt damn good and the after taste was a mix of the usual weed smell that’d I’d smell around friends at parties and if someone accidentally tripped over a T2 display.

I’ve always been obsessed with weed and weed culture because it always seems so pleasant and ridiculous. Whether it’s the cultural touchstones that were Cheech and Chong, the manic, improvised madcap nature of Seth Rogen and his pals, the chilled laidback gang from Spaced or the multi-racial adventures of Harold and Kumar (even if the first one was good and the others were mixed), they are all pleasant, happy and easy to watch pieces of popular culture that honestly wish no ill will against anyone but “narcs” and people messing with their buzz. They weren’t hippies or dope fiends, they were people who were just trying to live their lives. They wanted to smoke a bowl or two and just enjoy some company of their friends and wax lyrical about how the world works, or some mental fan theory.

I know it’s very illegal in Australia but I know that who knows, I’ll probably smoke it again soon and I hope it too is a pleasant experience and even if it isn’t, I know it’s all trial and error. Most of life is trial and error anyway. I know my ex was deeply opposed to it too, which lets me give another fuck you to her and her arbitrary nature. It’s a petty kind of revenge, but maybe that’s what the real placebo is, just little bits of emotional distance and regret leaving my body with each toke.

Anyway, I watched the new Doug Benson doco and loved it to fucking pieces. So weed seems cool to me, weed has always seemed cool and the next time someone passes it to me, I will puff then pass, as is the customary nature.