Weed

I like weed, marijuana, whatever you want to call it. I like it a lot. Probably too much, I know it’s too much. I’d be stoned all day if I had nothing else to do. Even if I had stuff, I’d do it stoned or not do it. Weed is nefarious in that way. I can just do stuff stoned. Can I? I can complete tasks, I guess. But that’s not it. I felt empty, hollowed. It’s not like the hard shit where you know this shit is bad. It’s seductive like that. No one, at least nowadays, thinks of it as much worse than a beer or two. It’s fine for most I’m sure. But this is about me. I like stuff too much. Before the weed kick of the past bit I was drinking too much. So much that just by stopping I probably lost 20-30 pounds. Of course I stopped because I replaced it with weed. Dopamine traps. Jerking off, drugs, drinking, whatever and however you can get a fix. But it’s empty. There is nothing to be found, just a need for more. I don’t like it. Fritter and waste your hours in an off hand way. Then 10 years have passed. I am growing still. My mind is mine, to the extent that means anything in this unknowable Universe. I don’t own anything. I. Sheesh, getting heady there. Anyways, I’m giving up on the green. I won’t say for now because I don’t know if I can be just a for now kind of guy. I like it a bit too much. Need to fortify my foundations.