First things first, if you want to smoke pot, then smoke pot. I won’t judge you. I haven’t got high in probably five years, because I hate it and it turns me into a serious idiot. I can’t believe that anyone would really like this stuff.
The chronology of my night:
10:15-11:30- Six Pack of Heineken. A couple of dice games with my roommates who are smoking pot.
11:35- THOUGHT. “I haven’t gotten high in a long time. Maybe I would enjoy it.”
11:36- THOUGHT. “No, I wouldn’t enjoy it. I remember the way that the stuff makes me feel.”
11:40- Take one hit off of the pipe.
11:45- THOUGHT. “Are my hands numb?”
11:47- I have now lost all ability to roll and then understand what the numbers mean on the dice.
11:49- Time to go to sleep.
11:50- THOUGHT. “My room is really messy. What kind of 30 year old lets his room get like this?”
11:53- Lie Down.
11:55- Get Up.
11:58- Lie Down.
12:01am- THOUGHT. “Just go to sleep. It will be gone when you wake up. Just stop thinking the things you are thinking and turn off.”
12:04am- All moisture is gone from my mouth.
12:06am- I really need water. But I am too paranoid that my ankles won’t support the weight of my body to walk to the refrigerator. I wish that Pink Dot would deliver to your bed.
12:10am- I remember there is bottled water on my nightstand. I drink a lot. It doesn’t help.
12:15-1:00am- THOUGHT. “Everyone makes fun of me. They are laughing at me. I have no true friends.”
1:00-1:30am- Cell phone ringing over and over. I t must be bad news. There isn’t enough money in the world to make me answer the little silver noisy box.
1:39am- Gunshot? That was definitely a gunshot that I just heard.
1:45am- Is that my kidney I feel? I am almost positive that my kidney is swelling up and is going to burst. I then realize I know nothing about anatomy or biology so this swelling could be any organ aside from the fun one that is supposed to swell sometimes.
1:48am- THOUGHT. “I should probably go to the hospital. Something isn’t right. Some unknown internal organ is really swelling up.”
2:00am Until Sleep- My heart is no longer a voluntary organ. I have to consciously think to make it do its job. The remainder of my evening was spent with this thought in my head, “Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat…”
