Wine. Weed. My Thoughts. [Stoned Diary, Part 1]

There’s not much that can be said right now. Have I broken my self-imposed sobriety by smoking this evening? Yes. But, damn does it feel good. I remembered why I loved smoking; the grace of it all, exhaling a cloud. Sativa, too? Fuck. Yes. Gimme more.

And that’s it. Gimme more. I’ve always felt, like any person struggling with addiction issues, there is no limit. I’ll always want to get higher. There’s no limit. Houston, we have a problem.

I recently started a job at a bar and restaurant. I’m a hostess and basically in charge of serving people and being a professional mannequin, capable only to be oogled at and say “good bye”. I smile so much I hurt. And while my coworkers are nice, I sense a tragic story behind all of them. You can read a lot about a person by looking into their eyes. At least, I can. And, it seems that now, I’m tempted by people who smoke and drink. 

For now, I’m optimistic that by being honest with myself about being under the influence, and know that I can stop again if I want. That I can not want this. That I can enjoy the moment. I’m feeling a lot less anxious while describing my feelings. There is a certain amount of tension with being stoned. While things feel good and your thoughts are fantastic, small things make zero sense. Enter the fact that I’ve also had a glass and a half of red wine and well…

Earlier in the night, the friend I’m staying with began to talk about Kim Kardashian and how she slays outfits. Dude, while I agree the fashion companies use that poor woman’s cartoonish body to sell overpriced clothing made by widowed Bangladeshi women, that was not the subject that I needed to think about high as fuck. Kim Kardashian, in my opinion, is just a pawn. She’s a pawn in some weird media saturation vortex spearheaded by her mother. If there is an Illuminati, Kris  Jenner heads it, for real. Or is at least a member because she has the greatest PR mind in the United States. She turned her daughter, some thot, rich girl from California who knew nothing more than to look pretty and somehow get famous, into A LITERAL PRINCESS. They have so much power in our country, dude. Kanye West, some legitimate psychopathic dude from South Chicago, is considering running for President. President. 

I sort of have the feeling that whomever wins the nomination, it’s going to be almost like an athletic competition. Complete with short, angry white guys with headsets, chewing gum and yelling at the candidates! That’s exactly what this position has turned into; a puppet show so the real “government” can control shit. I ignore that stuff generally because I’m a conspiracy theorist. And I honestly do believe my government records our conversations, tracks our texts, and definitely monitors our online activity. It’s stupid not to know. But, I’m so malinformed. That information to protect oneself is out there, but I haven’t gotten it. 

It’s late. 

Bye. 1:42am

One comment

  1. TEDESTEN · November 14, 2015

    I hope you’re not sad, Aja. Feeling like a human mannequin sucks and restaurants are NOT the place to be when you’re faith in humanity is shook the fuck up. And if the NSA is really always listening? Just make sure that you say “fuck” as often as possible and make dick jokes. Some shit is wicked shitty and upsetting. I’m not going to give you the “u should move 2 seattle” but my advice is do whatever the fuck doesn’t make you want to kill yourself. Sometimes it is the lesser of two evils and that’s all the choosing that can be done in one sadass day.

    Liked by 1 person

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