*TRIGGER WARNING: CONTENT CONTAINS INFORMATION ABOUT ALCOHOL AND DRUG USAGE. I am over the age of majority so the use of alcohol and recreational marijuana is legal in my state.*
It’s intriguing to me that every moment of intoxication has an independent feeling from the next time you get high and drunk. What I mean by that is this: every time you get drunk or high, it’s an experience of its own variety.
Last night I decided to smoke a bowl. It was innocent at its core. I walked around a park that late afternoon in order to play Pokemon Go and I was wearing sandals rather than the correct, supportive Nike’s that I have and really should be wearing at all times.
So I’m in pain, my foot is swollen. What do I do besides ice it? Smoke a bowl.
I make this into a little evening event. Diego doesn’t want me to smoke marijuana in the house (understandably) so I got myself ready to smoke, sitting in my lawn chair, poolside. By poolside, I mean I have a little kiddie pool to put my feet in on those hot summer days and we have yet to take the mosquito ridden water out. Still relaxing none the less.
It took me 20 minutes to find the lighter I had hidden from myself so i wouldn’t smoke the cigarettes I wanted. But after this incidence of slight fury, I was on my merry way.
I grab my last cigar. Who knows? Maybe I will want one stoned? I grab my cigarettes and my vape for the same reason. But then again I always want to smoke, so that was a “have to” rather than an “I want to”.
I ask Diego if he would join me, knowing he would say no. I put my headphones in and play “Hallucinogenics” by Matt Maeson and have a wonderful, relaxing night.
I should have cooked dinner, but my foot was hurting too bad to stand there and cook the bacon, sausage, and biscuits.
I sit down in my lawn chair and get my loaded pipe ready. I had so carefully ground up the weed to fit into my little blue and green striped pipe. It was fresh and good to go. I light the flower, with my thumb covering the hole.
Inhale. Exhale deeply.
My eyes start to squint, even with being in the shade without any direct sunlight. I became very relaxed and at ease. I scoot back into my lawn chair and look around, pleased with where I was at.
Inhale. Exhale deeply.
Now this was the sweet spot. Stoned, but not as baked as a cake. The pain disappeared and my creaky bones and sore muscles finally relaxed. I sat like this for what seemed like quite some time, but I was only outside for about 15 minutes in all reality. “Finesse” by Drake plays inside of my ears, the bass was incredible through my headphones. It definitely had the right ring to it that evening.
Inhale. Oh my God. I just inhaled a bug through my nose. I tried for two minutes to cough it out and I couldn’t. I cough out that last hit which makes me cough even harder. Just had to move on knowing that I unintentionally swallowed and murdered a bug.
After I get over the hysteria of murdering a poor bug, I was able to enjoy myself. I had peaked.
And then I went inside to get a cocktail in a can, as I like to call them. Those premium malt beverages they call “beer”, but doesn’t even resemble beer. This brand was Jack Daniels, so it had to be decent. I had their punch in a can and man… whoa! It was tasty. I thought I peaked but boy I was wrong.
I thought I was able to cook breakfast, but I sat up in bed until I fell asleep. I think I sat up like that for a good hour or two, just bed locked, eating snacks and drinking a lot of water. I think I drank about half of my cocktail in a can before I started to get sleepy. Then Diego jumped up on top of me trying to surprise me with cuddles. It worked. I was indeed surprised.
Yeah. That was my experience. Not very exciting compared to some who get cross faded. I tend not to remember events that happen when I’m cross faded and I’m out being active. The last time I got cross faded was at an art show in Seattle where we went to a posh bar on the good side of town and caught an Uber to the trashy place where our friend was participating in an art show. Let me just say, her art is cool; just the location was trashy. I just remember smoking my weed pen outside with some random person and chain smoking my vape and then I got left behind because I couldn’t hear my phone.
Luckily Diego stuck around and found me so I could safely get home. We barely missed the ferry back home that our other friends were on, so Diego was pissed, but I guess he got over it lol.
Usually when high and drunk, I’m just going through the motions and do what feels right. It’s very liberating. I remember everything in flash backs and it takes a lot of photos or videos to jog my memory. I am not sure if that’s normal or just a bipolar trait, but I kind of like the not knowing. As long as it’s all positive, it’s kind of fun going out in the world, doing normal things with an altered state of mind.
Cheers to the altered state of mind.