On Weed

So now that I’ve smoked and gotten ridiculously high, I have a better grasp on why people smoke weed. It’s not that it’s fun, though it can be, but it’s just interesting. It’s an altered state of mind, and I’m coming to the conclusion that there’s noting wrong with enjoying an altered state of mind, whether that be through drugs or riding a bike.

What I don’t quite understand is how marijuana, or alcohol, etc., became such a ubiquitous pastime. We form communities around common interests – why is marijuana so different from running, or knitting, or music? How did it gain such a cult following? Such a social stigma? Such a comprehensive social culture?

Maybe because it so intimately affects your mind, your thoughts. But even so, I feel that’s so temporary. I smoked. When I come down, it’s behind me. It the same as if I’d gone for a run, and now I’m not.

Side note: someone mentioned something that was really fascinating the other day – there’s a very minute time gap between the happenings of reality and an individual’s perception of those happenings. There was apparently a guy who’s goal was to test the limits of that gap through drugs. Super interesting stuff.


These are pathetic problems

Running the event that we spent all year planning, somewhat bonding with the team, it was fun. But what bothered me is that none of my friends came. I have no friends to automatically hang out with.

Sure, I get invited to things. But I don’t want to be invited. I want to be immediately thought of. I want to be an assumption. But I am no one’s assumption.

When my nights differ, there is no one that molds their plans to mine. I see people when I align my plans with theirs.

And when I got back to the dorm, AM had texted me. I told him to come to my dorm. I needed him to – I needed him to go out of his way to see me. He didn’t. And no matter how eager he acted to get me to come, it didn’t matter, because at the core, he wasn’t going to change plans to see me.

And you know what else bothered me? He stopped by my room around 11pm, looking for me. As if I he assumed I would be in my room on 11pm on a Friday night, free and available to hang out with him on a moment’s notice.

But part of why that bothers me is that it could be true.

I’m not scared of solitude – I need solitude. But I’m scared of what happens when I leave my solitude – is there anyone there looking for me? I don’t know. I don’t think so.


During our long conversation the other night, I do believe that JKm almost said he loved me. I felt it coming as the sentence flowed, and when the time came, the silence hung in the air










until he finished, “well, you know how I feel about you. I’m crazy about you.”

He almost did. But he didn’t.

Confronted JKm

After doing MDMA yesterday (oh yeah, I did MDMA) and having a total blast, I crashed in JKm’s room.

And I’m happy to say that I brought up an open conversation about wanting to challenge each other more and have him feel comfortable confronting me with differences in beliefs and opinions.

It was honestly exactly what I knew, too – it’s just his personality. He didn’t see the point in fighting over the little things. But I pushed him – they weren’t fights, but debates; these things were necessary in order to for our relationship to grow. I see where he was coming from. When something came up that he disagreed with, he is able to abstain from judging while also not questioning further. Thus, avoidance. But I don’t want that – I want him to ask, to understand, to duke it out with me and maybe come to disagree in the end, but at least with a greater appreciation and understanding for each other.

I think I got that across. I think he’ll try in the future.

And already, I feel closer to him. We pimple-bumped. We sang Jesse McCartney together. He licked my face in a completely disgusting way. I’m happy, I think.