Today I am empty of ideas that start to percolate on the drive home from the evenings at the girlfriends house to my grandmother apartment where I store my stuff, do my school work, hang out with my preoccupations, keep an eye on the low lifes at my grandmothers apartment, where I can more easily maintain my dreams of stardom in this hell of stagnation, of watching the welfare people, the disabled people, the poor people, the very class of people that I have found myself in all of my life, wanting to run away, having no clue where to go or how to go about it, so I shrank within myself, the only part of myself that I put my energies into increasing was my gut. Perhaps it is because I am hung over, I smoked too much weed last night. The girlfriend worked a night last night, I was left to my own devices.
To a lot of people the use of marijuana is a negative thing, something similar to crack or methamphetamines, the terrible drugs that make a person sell their body, steal from their family members, to become caught in the false rapture that the drug brings to your brain stem.
Marijuana, to me anyway, serves a different purpose other than trying to blot out the outer world so that I can entertain the feelings and sensations of my inner world. In fact it serves several, healthy purposes. The first and most pervading sensation I get from the marijuana, is being able to enjoy a heightened sense of my masculinity. Enjoying this sensation gives me a standard to live by when I am sober, it awakens in me a consciousness to be more masculine, that the estrogen demands its presence and development, even if it doesn’t necessarily search for it in me. It is a way of wanting to be perceived, of improving my role in the interplays of life that come and go, and especially those that remain. Are our friends, our family, the people around us measures of ourselves, of who we are, what we are limited to, what our potential is, the type of person that we naturally attract or repel, our standards, our limitations, our ideals, our prison?
Marijuana teases out those things that live in your unconscious mind, it brings those primal drives and impulses to the forefront of our consciousness. How can you interact with people, to intergrate within groups, when you are preoccupied with your weight, your looks, your socioeconomic status, your lack of sexual adventure? Weed brings this to the forefront of one’s consciousness, weed is a tool for psychoanalysis. Under the influence I can go out in the world and watch my self act out my own personal value system, of how I meet desires and impulses, what kind of moralities I use to deny myself, to watch others trying to be varieties of energies, watching the new crops and the old crops of people stagger through the motions of going through days lost in the mental dreams that keep them from going over the edge into homicide or suicide.
Marijuana is a thermogenic, a metabolism booster, an easy way to lose weight. Plenty of people spend money on cigarettes for the same effect when marijuana I believe is so much more cheaper. It is discipline one needs though not to overuse, to suck down more than what the body needs to maintain the high. I was so high last night that my eyeballs were as red as werewolf, everyone who saw me must have known. Let it remind you that I am as human, or more so than you are, my soul as dark, my drives just as ravenous, my desperation to suck as much joy and peace out of this life as possible before I die is just as strong, or stronger than yours. I don’t mean harm, unless you are an asshole. But even then, I realize I can be a far worse asshole, and plenty of times in my life I have judged others just to have my superficiality overtly displayed for that social group to see.
Marijuana fills my voids. When a person grows up outside of the natural, nuclear structure of the family, without role models to give a person a solid spectrum of what is or is not acceptable behavior, when there is no voice of reason to answer your voices of emotion, if there is no functioning people to give you an inner sense of direction in this life than the world becomes blind experimentation for what essentially becomes a collection of urges. I was raised like an animal, like a pet. my physical needs were met, food, clothing, shelter, the base standards of living that the government requires, but nothing more. I became abandoned by both my mother and father, coming to live with my maternal grandparents. My grandfather died shortly around the time of my years in Junior High. My mother came and went as her needs required. I was left with my vacant headed, irrational, uneducated, uncerebral grandmother. Essentially I spent my days alone in school, my nights with my toys, then my pursuit of misadventures between television and movies. A growing child neglected from teachings of how to make sense of this world, and abandoned to exploring the extents of his own devices will lead to disaster. I am my own family, my own role model, my own teacher, my own true love. It is what it is until it is no longer.
See you tomorrow.
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