I've gotten good at hiding myself. I used to practice facial responses and gestures to myself to make sure I had them right. I was so worried I didn't smile right, or didn't react to things properly. I used to never be able to laugh for fear my laugh was stupid.
I had a fake laugh.
I learned how to tell perfect lies, lies so good I believed them too. Building castles for myself, you know? Castles of uncertanties turned to fact, of experiences that never happened. Everything from movies I'd never seen to poems I'd never written.
And then one day I grew the fuck up.
No one from back then understands how much I used to hate myself. How often I'd stare into my closet at the age of thirteen with a belt in my hand, thinking that the only thing stopping me from killing myself was how lame it'd probably seem someday to hang myself to Linkin Park
I was better by the end of my seinor year. Mostly so anyways. I got better in school.
Weed wasn't the cause of that. But it helped.
I laughed for the first time in forever after I smoked. My real laugh
and I loved it
I believed in hope again. I believed in the chance of God, perhaps.
I don't know.
My mother lashed out at me again today. Even with all the distance, she can still make my life hellish over the phone.
Penny is such a good support though. Even though she's so sick, she talked me through the worst of it.
I'm sorry to take this in such a dark direction, friends.
In which our intrepid philosopher and sometime psyconaut, Ian, explores reality alternately and shares his notes from the journey.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Rough Day Yesterday
didn;t feel like I could bring the standard level of quality yesterday. Penny is very very dear to me. More than I can ever quite describe.
----
I've been thinking a lot about death, recently. In a strictly academic fashion, please understand.
Philosophically, you die every second. Not every second, but every smallest number that measures time. You never live in the present, because your brain can't process information that fast. The "present" is just shit that you're processing that already happened in the past. The you from the past is dead.
Every X number of years, every cell in your body is completely fresh. This means that the original you died, and you're simply a copy.
With this in mind, all that needs to happen is for the random molecules to come together somewhere in the infinite universe that constitute "you" for you to be born again.
Or so I'd like to think.
----
I've been thinking a lot about death, recently. In a strictly academic fashion, please understand.
Philosophically, you die every second. Not every second, but every smallest number that measures time. You never live in the present, because your brain can't process information that fast. The "present" is just shit that you're processing that already happened in the past. The you from the past is dead.
Every X number of years, every cell in your body is completely fresh. This means that the original you died, and you're simply a copy.
With this in mind, all that needs to happen is for the random molecules to come together somewhere in the infinite universe that constitute "you" for you to be born again.
Or so I'd like to think.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Records of Last Night, once more
Heinrich is dying.
He's almost empty, now. We burnt through him pretty fast. It was pretty hard to light the bongs last hits with the smaller flame but we made do.
Penny left thirty minutes ago, at this point. I don't really feel comfortable making her feel uncomfortable around us smoking, so I usually wait until she gets tired and goes home. She's a busy girl, you see. Works mornings before school.
So this turned into a night of Arrested Development and conversation with Leo and Ryan, smoking the bong on the balcony, looking over the lights of the streets below, watching the people walk past. We talk about them, and wave at the people, users like us, on the balcony across the way. Sometimes we even wave flashlights at each other.
We don't know them.
Jack came home from work around midnight so we loaded the bong again and settled in for an episode of firely. It's funny. We talk about all kinds of things and try to solve problems and understand the world, understand each other.
We talk about nothing but it means everything, you know?
Meaning is found in everything. In each other.
And I feel like I belong, in these times.
--------------------------
"What I'm saying, is that everything below me is down."
"dude what?"
"like...even things like china and the core and the space below are down from here."
"But thats also sideways. Your definition of down is relative. Your like gravitationally pulled that way."
"yeah but it's also down, relativistically because measurements are relative themselves."
"wait what?"
this goes on and on. I'll spare you, but whenever one of us mentions the Down Argument it does on for a while. We make pacts to never talk about it again, but it keeps happening.
-------------------------
Leo and I stumbled back to our room sometime after midnight. I'd say close to one thirty. We looked at each other. Leo had a devious grin on his face.
"Dude...wanna play some Mario Kart?"
we high fived.
Almost every night for the last three months, every night when we go back to our room Leo and I play Mario Kart together. I don't remember how it started, but now it's become our thing.
We play Double Dash on the gamecube together. Leo and I play the every track once, then go to bed. One of us gets first, the other second in almost every race, nowadays.
Leo's a great roommate. I couldn't ask for better.
-------------------------
He's almost empty, now. We burnt through him pretty fast. It was pretty hard to light the bongs last hits with the smaller flame but we made do.
Penny left thirty minutes ago, at this point. I don't really feel comfortable making her feel uncomfortable around us smoking, so I usually wait until she gets tired and goes home. She's a busy girl, you see. Works mornings before school.
So this turned into a night of Arrested Development and conversation with Leo and Ryan, smoking the bong on the balcony, looking over the lights of the streets below, watching the people walk past. We talk about them, and wave at the people, users like us, on the balcony across the way. Sometimes we even wave flashlights at each other.
We don't know them.
Jack came home from work around midnight so we loaded the bong again and settled in for an episode of firely. It's funny. We talk about all kinds of things and try to solve problems and understand the world, understand each other.
We talk about nothing but it means everything, you know?
Meaning is found in everything. In each other.
And I feel like I belong, in these times.
--------------------------
"What I'm saying, is that everything below me is down."
"dude what?"
"like...even things like china and the core and the space below are down from here."
"But thats also sideways. Your definition of down is relative. Your like gravitationally pulled that way."
"yeah but it's also down, relativistically because measurements are relative themselves."
"wait what?"
this goes on and on. I'll spare you, but whenever one of us mentions the Down Argument it does on for a while. We make pacts to never talk about it again, but it keeps happening.
-------------------------
Leo and I stumbled back to our room sometime after midnight. I'd say close to one thirty. We looked at each other. Leo had a devious grin on his face.
"Dude...wanna play some Mario Kart?"
we high fived.
Almost every night for the last three months, every night when we go back to our room Leo and I play Mario Kart together. I don't remember how it started, but now it's become our thing.
We play Double Dash on the gamecube together. Leo and I play the every track once, then go to bed. One of us gets first, the other second in almost every race, nowadays.
Leo's a great roommate. I couldn't ask for better.
-------------------------
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Why I don't consider myself a stoner
Ian here again!
Now, yesterday I mentioned the concept that I don't really consider myself a stoner. Let's talk about this for a little while, mmmaky?
So, what is a stoner?
That's easy, you think. Someone who smokes weed, also known by the terms cannabis, ganja, pot etc etc.
But what actually makes someone a stoner?
The culture, man!
Now picture a stoner in your head, NOW.
Now, yesterday I mentioned the concept that I don't really consider myself a stoner. Let's talk about this for a little while, mmmaky?
So, what is a stoner?
That's easy, you think. Someone who smokes weed, also known by the terms cannabis, ganja, pot etc etc.
But what actually makes someone a stoner?
The culture, man!
Now picture a stoner in your head, NOW.
probably something like these guys, right?
I guess the fact of the matter is that smoking is just something I do. I guess I like reggae and electronic music when stoned but I dislike them a lot more sober. I have a wide variety of interests and hobbies! And I need to talk about more than drugs in my daily life to feel fulfilled.
But I mean I smoke everyday so I can't really judge others, you know?
And in the end I think it's important to realize that most smokers are good people. Heck, most people are good people. It's only when we start fucking with each other that things go wrong, and in my experience most people only fuck with others cause their lonely. Or hurting.
But I try really hard to not judge anyone, give others the benefit of the doubt. People will surprise you sometimes.
BONUS PIC PART TWO
Monday, April 2, 2012
On excusivity
It's interesting, to me, at least, how exclusive cultures get.
I've also noticed that a lot of the most exclusive people are the "outcasts" themselves!
Wether it be the Goths, the Punks, the Hipsters, the Geeks, people tend to form not very clearly defined rules for their society, and have ways of finding out if you are in a group or not. If you don't dress and act the part it often leads to becoming ostracized.
The thing that made me think about this is hearing a bunch of the most PERFECTLY average loooking geeks bitching about some girl they hang out with who is apparently "not even a real gamer"
But honestly, I don't see the appeal in dating a "real gamer" someone you'd want to be with would understand that sometimes other things come first, you know?
Like Penny. She never used to play games or watch anime and shit, but she does now that we've been dating for a while. People rub off on each other.
Besides, people shouldn't be defined by what they do. Like me, I don't really consider myself a stoner. But thats a conversation for a different day.
BONUS IMAGE
I've also noticed that a lot of the most exclusive people are the "outcasts" themselves!
Wether it be the Goths, the Punks, the Hipsters, the Geeks, people tend to form not very clearly defined rules for their society, and have ways of finding out if you are in a group or not. If you don't dress and act the part it often leads to becoming ostracized.
The thing that made me think about this is hearing a bunch of the most PERFECTLY average loooking geeks bitching about some girl they hang out with who is apparently "not even a real gamer"
But honestly, I don't see the appeal in dating a "real gamer" someone you'd want to be with would understand that sometimes other things come first, you know?
Like Penny. She never used to play games or watch anime and shit, but she does now that we've been dating for a while. People rub off on each other.
Besides, people shouldn't be defined by what they do. Like me, I don't really consider myself a stoner. But thats a conversation for a different day.
BONUS IMAGE
(sequel to be posted shortly)
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Rough End of the Week
but a fucking perfect weekend. Me and Penny had some trouble, but I swear I'd do anything to make her happy.
She's really special, you know?
Ahh, but I don't believe in airing dirty laundry.
----
I was thinking a lot about religion this week. Christianity in it's early stages must have seemed like insanity. How do you go from a panthiestic idol-worshipping society to a clockwork organization that promotes one god, but refutes all the others WITH NO CONCRETE IDOL OF YOUR GOD?
think about being an ancient roman, going through the catacombs of Rome, hearing whisperes of "the body and blood of christ" and knowing how willing the Christians are to die for their faith... swinging the corner of the dark half sewers half graveyard and coming to a clearing where the christians are worshipping...and seeing no representations of a God.
Maybe a symbol of execution. Nothing more.
They must have seemed like some crazy death cult, I think.
No wonder they were persecuted!
----
Went to the diner last night, with Leo Penny and Ryan. Goddamn, that food is tasty. Nothing beats the comforting feel of diner food. Diner's find the sweet spot and stay there, man.
Well, that's it for now. If you have any questions or something, feel free to leave 'em in the comments!
She's really special, you know?
Ahh, but I don't believe in airing dirty laundry.
----
I was thinking a lot about religion this week. Christianity in it's early stages must have seemed like insanity. How do you go from a panthiestic idol-worshipping society to a clockwork organization that promotes one god, but refutes all the others WITH NO CONCRETE IDOL OF YOUR GOD?
think about being an ancient roman, going through the catacombs of Rome, hearing whisperes of "the body and blood of christ" and knowing how willing the Christians are to die for their faith... swinging the corner of the dark half sewers half graveyard and coming to a clearing where the christians are worshipping...and seeing no representations of a God.
Maybe a symbol of execution. Nothing more.
They must have seemed like some crazy death cult, I think.
No wonder they were persecuted!
----
Went to the diner last night, with Leo Penny and Ryan. Goddamn, that food is tasty. Nothing beats the comforting feel of diner food. Diner's find the sweet spot and stay there, man.
Well, that's it for now. If you have any questions or something, feel free to leave 'em in the comments!
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