Monday, February 8, 2010

Before even smoking out of my bong, I placed it on my lamp/table thing, next to my coffee cup. Such curiously looking things the two were. I admired them both.

"Good bong. Pretty bong." I said it with such sincerity and with a voice of the sentimental. Like someone talking to their pet cat. It was then that I noticed that my coffee cup had on it the decoration of two cats sitting on a bench, holding a batch of flowers. Cats! I was amused, I was sold.

Onto the smoking part.

Grape God was my sticky icky of choice. (Hoping it will give me some homeworking-doing power, still hoping) A pretty gnarly hybrid strain.

For whatever reason, a voice kept whimpering in the back of me head. Or should I say, "A little birdy told me..."? Well, a little birdy told me, Don't take a lot of hits. You don't really need it. Just take 2-3 and take more later.

Wasn't it just yesterday after the Super Bowl (and we were superbowling, best believe) that I had said that I always telling myself same thing, and how I fail at listening to myself?

And so it was, I took hella more hits than I had planned to. After each hit, I asked myself, do you really need to smoke more? Like, really? Yeah, I do need to smoke more, May, ya whore. (I smoke more.) Oh my god! How many hits was that already? You're already super high! How can you doubt your highness? There is no need to smoke any more cause you're already high!

Rational, annoying, plain jane May was like trippin' out!!!! So I said to her out loud, " are TRIIIIIPPPIN!" And then, "Oh my god, I am trippin'," on accordance of me talking out loud to myself as if there was another 'myself' here.

I put my bong down, giggling in my mind.

Wait! Was I really giggling in my mind? Or was that real laughter? I focused in on my surroundings and heard a woman's laugh. Unmistakable female laughter, and not from me. My eyes widening, I heard another woman laughing as well.

"What the fuck," I said out loud. Immediately I remembered discussing hallucinations with a friend the other night.

But no. This was real laughter. I was enthralled and shocked at the idea of coincidence, that it was almost as if they could read my mind and start laughing at my thoughts.

But then I was like, NAH dude, it's just da fucking neighbors and they're in their backyards laughing at something. Big fucking deal.

And so it was, just the fucking neighbors.
If that's not a good indicator of how high I am right now, then I don't know what is.

...I am high off my flippin' mind.

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