#1 ·
Kate Fisher73 said:Well, it seems my "inner voice" is telling me I should open up my soul here, on this Danielle thread.
First off, I have to admit—for the longest time, I was a total hardliner against marijuana. Just hated all the negative baggage and drama people drag along with it.
But look, I’ll tell you what happened to me and why I finally flipped my script.
Basically, life just decided to kick my teeth in from every single direction at once. Everything was going sideways—electrical issues at the house, plumbing disasters... just absolute chaos. I lost my mind, my time, and honestly, even my garden was suffering because I was too busy fixing things. Then, out of nowhere, one of my dogs gets hit with acute pancreatitis. I was basically running an IV drip for him day and night. After five grueling days, the little guy finally pulled through, but then came the 24-hour glucose monitoring because the whole pancreatitis thing triggered diabetes. Just when things seemed to settle down enough for me to catch maybe four hours of sleep, my second dog collapses. Fever of 104—which, for context, is like me hitting 112. I scramble to get him to the vet for bloodwork, and sure enough, it's some viral infection. No cure. For the next few days, I was just running around like a maniac trying to nurse a dying dog while also managing a diabetic dog, just trying to keep my head above water.
So, what can I say? My nerves were shot, and I figured I'd light up a joint just to help with my meditation—which, given the mess I was in, was pretty much a necessity if I wanted to relax for even a second.
I take the first hit—nothing.
Second hit—still nothing.
I’m about to go for the third when suddenly, I hear a voice: "Greetings, poor soul. How may I assist you?" You can imagine how stunned I was.
My first thought was, "Okay, the weed is definitely tripping me out, I'm hallucinating," so I tried to chill.
Third hit—nothing.
I was almost ready to give up on the meditation entirely when the voice piped up again: "Fear not, poor soul, I shall help you perceive the world as it truly is. Listen to my voice, and not only will you discover the depths of your own soul, but you will find it easy to merge with all other souls... Don't answer, just take another hit and start rolling a real joint, and of course, keep listening to my voice."
(If you're wondering how I know exactly what the voice said—look, I don't know, it just *is*.)
While the voice was talking, I started feeling these waves of pure bliss, stuff I've never felt in my entire life. I don't even know how to describe it, but suddenly, life felt beautiful... I took another hit, started rolling the joint the way it was suggested, but I couldn't help myself and blurted out: "Thanks for helping me, and sorry to interrupt, but could you at least tell me who you are?" And the voice goes: "I am the spirit of chamomile, the friend of intellectuals and the 'censored'-pal of the outcasts."
😕
"But, wait, how? Am I not breaking the law right now by using these controlled substances that warp my consciousness to the edge of danger for myself and others, even though it feels great and I don't care about the consequences!?" I asked, totally bewildered.
"No, poor soul, you don't need that; you already have schizophrenia," the chamomile spirit replied...
Anyway, there's no point in dragging this out—what happened, happened. I think I'm gonna have to find a new dealer.
Lastly, big shoutout to Danielle—good luck to you, since you clearly aren't hanging out with the chamomile spirit.
The post above was nuked.
Seriously, why?
Hey, admin crew—since when did we lose the right to make a joke about drugs on this forum? Is everything that sensitive now?