About a year ago I decided once and for all, to stop smoking pot. This ended a decade long love affair with the silly sacred herb, that once was my medicine. There are a lot of things about pot that I like and miss sometimes, and for these reasons I do still advocate its use for most people.
I used to start everyday with a bowl of failure flakes. It would give me the smile I needed to brave a day full of sitting in classes I didn't want to be taking, and jobs I didn't want to be doing. It helped me make friends, and forget about my enemies. Sometimes I think that without pot I couldn't have finished school, other times I think without it, maybe I would have gotten a lot more writing done while I was still studying, and maybe today I'd be years ahead of where I am now.
Pot makes you nicer, sometimes it can make you less thoughtful and courteous, perhaps less well-mannered and polite, but it definitely makes you more caring and forgiving, and less hostile. Without it I find myself prone to occasional fits of rage and long gripping sessions. Pot also helped me drink less, and helped me feel sympathy for others. I think some people should smoke, depending on what they are doing with their lives.
The problems I had with smoking pot, were mostly professional, I find myself feeling too blissful, to write. Writing, for me, is mostly motivated by a dissatisfaction with life. I write because I hope to transcend the realities of my unsavory place in the universe. So my two options for an escape are to drugs or writing, and they don't go well together. I tried for the first time in a while, yesterday, to write while stoned, and I pretty much wasted the ink. I couldn't really understand why I even thought some of the stuff I came up with was worth writing down. Worst of all, I don't have dreams when I smoke. For some reason, maybe because I sleep too well, I lose my dreams. I have always found my dreams more inspiring than any drug.
Laborers should smoke because pot helps sore muscles and promotes good sleep. Rescue workers probably shouldn't smoke, because it makes you lazy and paranoid. People who work with children or the elderly should definitely smoke, but if you work in an office you should probably lay off. In restaurants, it's good for back of the house, bad for the front.
I think weed is a great medicine for anyone who is anxious, aggressive, prone to nightmares or insomnia, or who has serious alcoholism (as opposed to the comical form I indulge in). I do, however, think that weed has probably kept some of my friends on the couch for a few too many years after college. Sometimes I wonder what they would do if they stopped smoking,
If you ask most creatives, they will say it's part of their diet, and some may even say they use it for inspiration. For me, it's limiting. Besides, stealing my dreams, pot makes me a bad critic because it makes me accepting. One of the most important parts of being a writer is being able to self-criticize because every word is basically a choice, and in a story, you make thousands of choices. If you can't tell yourself that you made a bad choice, your work will suffer. You will re-read it when you are straight and be horrified that you ever thought that was acceptable. Writing is, unfortunately much more like a job than I ever wanted to admit to myself. It requires a sense of duty and a clear head.
I still allow myself to get high, but only when I know I'm not going to want to write, which is, happily, a rare mood. I will say that I miss it in steam rooms and at the movies, and on road trips, but pot will always be there, but my critical young mind will degenerate with every wasted year. Everyone in a while, it's nice to have a little reminder of why I stopped though, and a reminder of why I loved it so much for so long. I just keep reminding myself, that it will be there, whenever I need it. It gives me something to look forward to when I retire.
I used to start everyday with a bowl of failure flakes. It would give me the smile I needed to brave a day full of sitting in classes I didn't want to be taking, and jobs I didn't want to be doing. It helped me make friends, and forget about my enemies. Sometimes I think that without pot I couldn't have finished school, other times I think without it, maybe I would have gotten a lot more writing done while I was still studying, and maybe today I'd be years ahead of where I am now.
Pot makes you nicer, sometimes it can make you less thoughtful and courteous, perhaps less well-mannered and polite, but it definitely makes you more caring and forgiving, and less hostile. Without it I find myself prone to occasional fits of rage and long gripping sessions. Pot also helped me drink less, and helped me feel sympathy for others. I think some people should smoke, depending on what they are doing with their lives.
The problems I had with smoking pot, were mostly professional, I find myself feeling too blissful, to write. Writing, for me, is mostly motivated by a dissatisfaction with life. I write because I hope to transcend the realities of my unsavory place in the universe. So my two options for an escape are to drugs or writing, and they don't go well together. I tried for the first time in a while, yesterday, to write while stoned, and I pretty much wasted the ink. I couldn't really understand why I even thought some of the stuff I came up with was worth writing down. Worst of all, I don't have dreams when I smoke. For some reason, maybe because I sleep too well, I lose my dreams. I have always found my dreams more inspiring than any drug.
Laborers should smoke because pot helps sore muscles and promotes good sleep. Rescue workers probably shouldn't smoke, because it makes you lazy and paranoid. People who work with children or the elderly should definitely smoke, but if you work in an office you should probably lay off. In restaurants, it's good for back of the house, bad for the front.
I think weed is a great medicine for anyone who is anxious, aggressive, prone to nightmares or insomnia, or who has serious alcoholism (as opposed to the comical form I indulge in). I do, however, think that weed has probably kept some of my friends on the couch for a few too many years after college. Sometimes I wonder what they would do if they stopped smoking,
If you ask most creatives, they will say it's part of their diet, and some may even say they use it for inspiration. For me, it's limiting. Besides, stealing my dreams, pot makes me a bad critic because it makes me accepting. One of the most important parts of being a writer is being able to self-criticize because every word is basically a choice, and in a story, you make thousands of choices. If you can't tell yourself that you made a bad choice, your work will suffer. You will re-read it when you are straight and be horrified that you ever thought that was acceptable. Writing is, unfortunately much more like a job than I ever wanted to admit to myself. It requires a sense of duty and a clear head.
I still allow myself to get high, but only when I know I'm not going to want to write, which is, happily, a rare mood. I will say that I miss it in steam rooms and at the movies, and on road trips, but pot will always be there, but my critical young mind will degenerate with every wasted year. Everyone in a while, it's nice to have a little reminder of why I stopped though, and a reminder of why I loved it so much for so long. I just keep reminding myself, that it will be there, whenever I need it. It gives me something to look forward to when I retire.
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