High Ramblings about Being High-Lee Satisfied

It’s funny. I do things for people that they would never do for me. And for some reason, I just don’t care. I don’t want people to feel the way I have felt in the past. I suffer from bipolar disorder and when I’m not having an episode I’m being ridiculously generous and reckless with my money. Which, I guess is also an episode, but anyways, I do shit for people cause I am content now. I feel as if I have come to terms with life.
You see, Life and I have been at odds for a while. People found it beautiful and I could only see the ugly. But, I’ve fallen in love.
I’ve fallen in love with this world, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Cause honestly, everyone has enough to deal with on their plates. I am fed up with people’s shit.
People need to treat people how they want to be treated if they want that treatment of course. If they crave that comfort.
I on the underhand cannot stand being vulnerable. Because my vulnerability is something truly terrifying to people. I see it, I’ve tried, and people always get too horribly worried because I have ridiculous reactions to stuff sometimes. So I bottled it all in.
Wow. Dammit forgot what I was talking about again.
This is some good shit.

-high ramblings of a stoner

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High Ramblings about Self Medication

I self-medicate. I am not afraid to admit it. But I do not abuse anything I use to deal with my mental illness. I drink, and yes I do throughout the day, but at no point during the day am I drunk. Liquor is for special occasions. Wine, beer, wine coolers? Sure, I’ll have one with breakfast lunch and dinner and maybe one more in between those times. But I am never drunk. I smoke weed. But unless I am making an activity of it with friends, I won’t smoke a joint or a blunt, I’ll smoke a single bong pack or bowl pack every hour or two. At no point during the day am I fucked up. Cigarettes? Yeah, I smoke em. Yeah, I know they’ll kill me young. Yes, I want to quit. But I’ll decide when I’m ready to actually devote attention specifically to destroying that bad habit. Pills? I love em. Do I take them without a prescription? No. Do I take more than I am supposed to? No. So whats the problem? Honestly, I abuse a lot of things, but never to the point that it is literally life threatening. Everything can be enjoyed in moderation. What’s life without enjoying the things you want? Honestly, its quality not quantity. But that’s just my defense of why I do the things I do lol. Think what you want I’m happy.

-High Ramblings of a Stoner

High Ramblings about Memories

Sometimes when I’m listening to music and smoking by myself, I start going back in time. I think about events that shaped certain perspectives I now have. Whether it be of people, of certain topics, of events, pretty much anything. I have a shitty memory, I only remember things that had an impact on me in some way.

During this smoke session, I started thinking about my poems. I guess that is also due to the fact that I have to write a poem for my Creative Writing class. I thought about the topics for my poems when I was a teenager. Or rather, the themes. A lot of them, the most recent ones (Which is like three or four years ago, or maybe even five) had something to do with my mom. At this time my mom and dad had gotten a divorce. And my mom was, lost. My dad was too, but he wasn’t as hung up. At least he didn’t show it anyways. But my mom, she just fell out of the “perfect” mom routine. Everything she did for us and the way she treated us, it sort of changed. Well anyways, at that time my poems were about her predicament. I actually posted a few of them: Armageddon of the Heart and Puppet Master. These are some of my favorite poems, and they were about my mom.

These themes, this topic, it got me thinking of a certain event that cemented her image in my mind at the time. I was laying on the couch, watching anime. For some reason, I think I liked sleeping on the couch. Anyways, I hadn’t seen my mom since the morning. Well actually maybe I saw her after she got off work. Well, anyways she had gone on a date or something. She was talking to this guy. My mom comes home, I am passed out on the couch, and she lays across me when I wake up to greet her. Then she begins to sob into my chest. I stroked her hair and comforted her, and tried to coax out of her what was wrong. She didn’t tell me straight up, she was very vague about the whole thing, but the gist of it was that some guy had just used her for sex, or that was something that the guy only wanted.

At this moment I felt odd. I couldn’t help but think, wasn’t this the kind of thing i should go crying to her about? But I had never been that type of person. At the time, I was still a virgin, and guys didn’t really interest me, and neither did girls, or anyone really.

But here was my mom, crying to me, about a topic I had no familiarity with. I don’t know why I am thinking of this memory, or what it means. I can’t put in words the image I have of my mother now, it’s something beyond words. It’s the kind of thing words can’t describe, my impression of her. But I love her. I don’t care what happened in the past when she was just shy of a perfect mother. It doesn’t matter. Just as my dad’s faults and shortcomings don’t bother me. I love them both. Everyone in my family gets that pass. I don’t know why family is so important to me, but it is.

-High Ramblings of a Stoner

High Ramblings about Dreams

Honestly, my dreams aren’t very practical. What I want to do doesn’t realistically relate to what I can do. But I’m young. So I have time to pursue my dreams. I don’t have to worry about settling just yet. I have time. But one day I’ll probably have to settle. And hopefully, I can do it. I just don’t want to be caught in that rat race. I want to make my dreams come true. I want to be that one in a million who succeeds because I try my hardest. I want to be a success story, to show other people that u can succeed no matter what life throws at you. I want to be…but I know realistically, I won’t make it. I’ll fail, over and over again. I just hope I settle in time not to waste my life. And if I don’t, or if I get trapped in that god awful 9-5 routine, I think I’ll say hello to death and accompany him to the next realm.

 

-High Ramblings of a Stoner

High Ramblings about Family

I don’t know. It’s weird when there are three kids. Well, I guess, not weird. But I bet someone can relate to this. Like when u have siblings, you get salty about little shit. Like passwords. So my parents use our names as passwords, as I’m sure some of u can relate to. So like my parents have two passwords and like for some reason they always use something related to my bro or my sis. I don’t have a password using anything related to me. So yeah, I know its petty silly and ridiculous, but I’m not afraid to say that I am salty about that shit.

-High Ramblings of a Stoner

High Ramblings about Home

I never really had a home. Not a birthplace where I can say I grew up, not even an actual house where I spent enough time for me to consider it home. I guess what I’m saying is I don’t have a specific place where I associate enough crucial memories for me to consider it home. My home would be spread out over dozens of places. By the way, I’m a military brat who has moved at least every four years since I was born.

I don’t ever picture myself having a home. I was born a wanderer, and I feel like that’s how I’ll stay.

Though if I were to ever settle in an area, you know pick a place where I want to die, then I guess the type of house I’d want would be a three bedroom small house. That way I could have an art studio and a study. Or I guess maybe a two bedroom with a basement or attic. Or a one bedroom with both. All I know is home is where I have everything I need to live in a particular place for more than five years.

But will I ever find a place like that? Where my restless spirit can finally find peace? I don’t know. I may just spend my entire life traveling, moving every five years till I’m too old and sick to move anymore.

Who knows what my future holds but it’ll work out. As long as I go through life with good intentions, then I should find peace and happiness. I don’t know in what form it’ll take, but as long as I thirst for a rememberable life and make moves to accomplish it, then I can die content.

 

-High Ramblings of a Stoner

High Ramblings about Mistakes

“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
– Albert Einstein

I don’t learn from my mistakes. I am the definition of crazy, I literally do the same things over and over again and somehow miraculously expect a different result. It’s batshit crazy I know, but it’s like I am so into momentary pleasures that i find a way to rationalize a series of these momentary pleasures. Idk, maybe I’ll just accept that I’m crazy and not try to fix myself. Maybe I’ll continue to live like this, not giving a fuck and just living the happiest way I know how. Or maybe I’ll take that plunge. Maybe I’ll search for a different kind of happiness. The kind that isn’t dependent on senses but the soul. But hey, I’m just a no good stoner so maybe I’ll fill this pocket in our society and be perfectly content either way.

-high ramblings of a stoner…