We used to smoke blunts in trash bags.
As in, you sit indian style on the earth,then you place an oversized contractor trash bag on yourself, then you light a Chocolate Philly (miss those), you put the blunt into your mouth and you fill the trash bag with shotgun smoke.
10 minutes.
The rule is, “you have to sit for ten minutes”. Breathe deeply.
I found headphones and a disc man helped greatly.
Deep breaths 🫁.
This was back when weed was just weed.
I’m uh, beginning to realize that I may have damaged myself a long time ago, and have been stuck in a loop ever since .
That… Is a bummer reality. But still a reality.
I didn’t know. I didn’t know what kind of bugs were in my bloodline, I had no concept of understanding, I do regret it and I apologize for everything I’ve said and done since that time.
Dangerous shit. Playing with fire. Curiosity killed the cat, and satisfaction brought him back.
You don’t get to do it again. I know.
If you look up and find yourself drilling holes at the top of an elevator shaft in August…meh..
You did that.
No one else. Just you. Bitching about a burden and what is deserved. Just you, mother fucker.
dawn 