I pray everything has been well with everyone out there. Had to take a second out of my day and pour my thoughts onto a waterproof page.
Finally, over three months off of weed smoke and it feels so good! But, lately, I’ve been having consecutive dreams where I would come across a pack or a joint, inspect it, smell it, yet never smoke it. I would have it on me throughout my lucid adventures, but would never find the time to ever spark it up.
Can’t help but ask myself if anyone else in the world would know what that means because I definitely don’t. In the real world, I gag at thought of smoking, but do wonder if I’d actually get high if I were to ever light a blunt again. The curiosity of being high is what grabs my attention most. I can care less about the taste, the earthy scent of deceit of “lye” my nostrils denies entry for. But, the thought of being in a state of mind where I don’t have to think about my problems for a millisecond? Now that’s what I crave more than anything in the world this current moment.
I can’t lie and say that I’m completely happy. I may be proud for letting go of what was destroying me, but I feel alone more than I ever have in my life. I find myself yearning for someone’s friendship the same way I’d drink water after fasting for an entire day. My mind keeps replaying one question I wish never entered: was I really that bad?
And, I guess I was. Smoking weed and the psychosis it brought into my life was turning me into a monster. The way I was treating others who were just trying their best to love me the only ways they how was horrendous. The amount of blackouts had are unfathomable compared to the kind of person I used to be before the temporary highs. So many blackouts, in fact, that I can’t even remember what was said nor done to anyone in my past.
Who in the world ever wants to sit with that reality? Especially while sober with nothing to ease the pain whatsoever. Maybe that’s why I haven’t been able to stop dreaming about Mary Jane and her bad company. “Just a joint, just one,” my brain keeps on whispering into my eardrums.
But, still. I stay away from the canopy of smoke regardless of how I feel. All I do nowadays is wake up, pace back and fourth until my bearings are straight enough for me to sit down and write or go to work whenever it is time. Am I a ticking timebomb? Who knows.
One thing is for sure, though. Faith I do have that one day someone will notice the changes I’ve made and give me a hug for it. Someone will open their hearts wide enough for me to walk inside. Because, no matter how terrible I used to be, there is no way I plan on hurting another soul for as long as I live on this planet Earth. All I want at the end of the day is to just, love someone. Remind them every single day of how much they matter, how much goodness they deserve to be brought upon them. How they’re deserving of their dreams coming true before death ever thinks of calling. After all, what else is there to live for while God gives us the permission to continue our existence? I honestly can’t think of anything else.
If you’re reading this and haven’t heard it in a while: I love you. You are loved. Whatever you do, just, don’t ever give up. Please don’t ever do that…
m3l0dicverse 
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