Weed
So much weed
Right in front of me
Harvesting
and
Trimming it
Smoking
Drinking wine
And beer
At home
On a Thursday night
Three friends
Three roommates
Two dogs
Music was playing
Brief moments of conversation
I had played an audio book by Bukowski earlier
They didn’t like it
My new dog Stanley laying down next to me
As I drank
And smoked
Weed
And
Nicotine
Anything to cure the boredom
The dullness
The darkness
Anything to fill the pain
Anything to be creative
Anything to be able to write
Weed was my go to
Weed and my imagination
Like pb&j
The weed we were trimming
Sticky
and
Purple
Yellow leaves
Bright green buds
Purple leaves
So sticky
Dense
Perfect
Soon to be in our lungs
we talk
And attempt to think
I hardly feel it anymore
The weed
Being high
It had become my normal state
My tolerance was too high these days
And the alcohol
Drinking it daily was new
But it paired perfectly with the weed.
It paired perfectly with the mind
With the pain
With the times
With the pandemic
With the fucking politicians
With the craziness
We were all just trying to make it through this
We wanted to go back
Back to normal
Why would we be sober?
Why would I be sober?
I took another hit
The smoke hit my lungs
Then the high hit my head
Then a hit from my vape pen
A sip from the wine
We talk about music
We talk about the work it took to grow the weed we were trimming
We talk about our parents
We share artist
And stories
And
We make the boring
And the mundane task
Of trimming
Enjoyable
That was life wasn’t it?
Making the boring and mundane enjoyable
With the people we wanted to be with
Smoking whatever we wanted
Drinking whatever we wanted
Tomorrow morning I’d go to work
Put on a mask
And pretend like I didn’t fucking hate to wear it.
But tonight
tonight was alright.