Warning: This post is about myself doing drugs, walk away if you are one of the following:
- Judgmental – No one likes to get judged myself included, it makes me cry big old crocodile tears.
- My parents – We both know you’re going to read this anyways, but at least I warned you.
- A cop – In which case I’m not talking about illegal drugs, I’m only talking about like myself on Adderall.
Pretty much when I was a kid I realized I had ADD paying attention was fairly difficult for me. My principal just thought I was lazy and I being the respectful kid I am told him that he could shove it. I’m kidding, I thought it but I never said it. I was placed on Adderall anyway and I can’t remember much of it, my family told me I became a zombie to an extent. I don’t think I had the craving for brains, but apparently I seemed to exhibit no emotions and walked around groaning. That last bit probably isn’t true…
Is he gone…did the cop leave…
Ok cool, so since I was fifteen I had my run in with a variety of different drugs, most of which I never really wanted to participate within. Crack is wack, heroin is for barbarians, and you know all of that jazz. I did however participate in smoking weed, almost every person I know has done this so I felt fine trying it. I never became an avid smoker, never felt like I needed to get high everyday. So since I was fifteen I have only really done it a handful of times.
For the most part I felt like weed had no effect on me, I don’t know weather I was smoking bad batches or was doing it wrong. (Note to self: Don’t cough after inhaling it screws the process.) I probably should have taken the coughing as warning as if my lungs were yelling ‘WHAT THE FUCK MAN! I NEED AIR NOT THIS BULLSHIT!’ I kept trying though, I’ve never been good at listening…you know because of the whole ADD thing.
There was one time though where instead of using a pipe I used a bong instead, now I don’t know what was so different but it worked. I was skeptical at first because I didn’t know how it felt, but then everyone started speaking in southern accents.
First Thought: Are these guys screwing with me?
Second Thought: Woah why do I sound southern?
Third Thought: This is New York not Texas!
I told the guys what was happening which I believe just made matters worse, people who are high suck at listening. Everything is hilarious, and it was, but when I said stop it they all proceeded to take us deeper into rodeos and the kind of racism that only southern people can feel.
I wanted to leave, I was only a five minute walk away from my house, but the paranoia kicked in. The bullshit thing about drugs, the part that I was never told about, is that everything is a potential cop. Everything you do is with this hazy caution. Is that squirrel a cop? Of course not, but your dumb ass high self can’t rule out any suspects. Not even that tree that even though its been there the whole time you claim ‘POPPED UP OUT OF FUCKING NO WHERE!’
To this day I still don’t know if it actually happened.