Days 8 & 9

Seeing as how I'm extremely over-tired, this suggests that I may not successfully be reaching REM sleep as fast as I was while smoking marijuana. This is a legitimate scientific observation! I'm having a lot of fun figuring out new things that my body will do when being weened off pot. I've passed most checkpoints of breaking the habit, so the loss of appetite is fading as well as my ability to hide frustration. There's a whole lot to see from the view-point of ground-walkers (The populous that does not partake in smoking weed), most prominently, the simplicity of daily tasks that would normally be over-bearing to a stoner. "Hey, go feed the dogs" would be a 10 minute ordeal of hell, but now it's just like "I already fed the dogs, the rabbit, and the cat.". I could live with this attentiveness. It almost has me convinced that I could perhaps survive college. As long as I went in as a writer. Now that's a dream. Ambition is a funny thing... this should pass within the next couple of days. One love.

Day 7

I've made it! One full week! This freedom to express myself has been a pretty useful outlet, keeping my mind on the topic of what I love, but keeping my body away (per my parent's request). I've been doing a lot of reading on marijuana and its negative effects on people lately, and have constantly found myself scorning the name of whomever the author of the anti-pot article is. This shows that I still have some time to learn exactly what the other side has to offer. I have patience, so I should reach a conclusion by my birthday. I have the feeling, still, that when this is all over I'll be just dying to get out and have a toke for the sake of the Gods of Ganja. Nevertheless, I face my goal with high hopes that I'll learn something out of this seemingly torturous phase of my life. Whenever I talk to my parents about weed, they either get angry or say that I'm not the only one dealing with changes and difficulty while going through this. I've seen no change on their part, other than the fact that they know that I am a connoisseur of cannabis. This, surely, can't be a drastic change to their way of life. Is it going to be any different in two months when I'm 18? No. I'm still going to be their son who smokes weed- except I'll then be their 18 year old son who smokes weed. I'm still going to live with them until high school is done and everything... I wonder how that's going to work out. I regret telling them sometimes... other times I'm glad to have gotten it out of the way. But I couldn't have just waited 2 and a half months more to tell them? Ugh, this is really a trying matter. One love.

Day 6

Believe it or not, I've spent more time thinking about what I'm going to do for entertainment more in the past six days than I have in the past 6 months. This is a weird kind of feeling, because even when plans would fall through, I'd have some pot that I could just smoke to make sitting at home a thrilling event. Although I've been away from Marijuana, I have not been away from the culture. I've actually become much more engrossed in the "Hemp-ire" than I ever have before, and it's mainly because I can openly express myself to my family about it all. Contemporary pot issues are honestly the only news that I read up on, but at least I care about a little part of politics. I think I'm going to run out and start buying every single "High Times" magazine that comes out. Well, not much is new other than my restlessness finally leaving... I miss sleeping so much. One love.

Day 5

Irritability is usually something I've been able to mask or hide pretty well simply to avoid conflict, but lately, little things just drive me up the wall and I seriously believe that rage will be the end of me. I would normally let the small problems go and and turn my attention to the issues that actually require my time, now every little thing ticks me off something real. I don't know if it's because I'm not high all the time, but it's definitely due to the fact that I know that I won't be high later to remedy the stress, no matter how small. I've been pissed at four different things this morning alone and it's only 8:21. This is the best shit in the world, bravo. I can't wait for the school year to start in two weeks, that will really make this situation fucking awesome. As you can tell, I'm on edge. I'm this close to throwing a tomahawk through something made of glass with an estimated value of over $400. What they've asked me to do is abandon everything I've known for the past two years. It's just hard to really live any differently and be happy at the same time, it feels like I'm betraying myself for my family. I'm going against my strictest beliefs for their happiness. Oh, they better love me.

Day 4

Many things have passed through my mind in these last couple of days, most thoughts are questions. Why am I doing this? What's so wrong with what I love doing? What's to gain? I'm doing this because my family asked me to, there's nothing too wrong with trying to listen to what they're saying, so I have to keep going. Nothing's wrong with what I love doing, it's all about what you're okay with, so it's a principle of morality. If I find nothing wrong with smoking weed, that's my opinion, therefor I have reason and logic to back up why I smoke and that's nobody's business but my own. Now, when I ask myself the question "What's to gain (by not smoking)?" I come up with nothing. I try to say that it's for insight into why I do things the way I do, but I feel as though that's somebody else's words coming out of my mouth. I don't believe there's anything to gain, seeing as how truth has already been laid down and that I have no issue with being a stoner. This is where things get difficult. At first, I thought "Well, it's for my family." and that was good enough. Upon further reflection, I've realized that I can't sit there and believe that what I'm doing is right, because maybe it isn't. This is all just a test to see if pot is right for me and if I already know the answer, then what am I doing here? Self-conflicted and riddled with questions that I know I won't get straight answers to, my mind is a mess. I wouldn't recommend pot to everyone, but it's always worked for me. Grudgingly, I press on.

Day 3

Being asked to stop smoking weed by your parents is a lot like being asked to sit down when you pee, even if it does keep piss-stains off of the seat, it makes you feel like less of a man. I have to admit, there's a certain appeal to this kind of sober-lifestyle... a strange real feel is cast over everything that I do, it's like "Sober" is actually an acronym for "Son Of a Bitch, Everything's Real". I've taken a new perspective on this whole situation- It's just one big tolerance break, if I still love weed by the time this is all done (which I will, undoubtedly) I'm going to get stupid high, due to my body not being used to THC. See? There's a light-side to this situation after all. One thing that I really will miss is the quality of music, it just sounds so much better while floating. Under the influence, over the ignorance.

Day 2

Here we are, at the beginning of day two, and I must say things are just too serious. Yeah, I can "relax" but without weed that just means sitting on the couch for a while. Normally, my relaxation methods consist of a nice big bowl and an activity that normally wouldn't thrill me. With myself two days removed from the big picture, I'm starting to see that eating and laughing come by much more scarcely than before. There's a tinge of gray to everything... that may just be my disinterest in this radical change of lifestyle, but the one thing that has surfaced that I never really paid much attention to is the willingness of my family to help me do something that they know I don't want to do, and they know is not easy. This has left me with the newfound impression that if ever there's a problem that I don't think that I can tackle on my own, I'll always have a team to back me up. Now, look, the first week or so of this blog are going to be full of bias, one-sided points that will only support the consumption of cannabis- but I have a feeling that I'll be discovering just why I smoked so much and how come my life could get molded by a plant. Here's one bit of wisdom that I have yet to tell my parents, It was never an addiction, I saw it as a commitment. A commitment to a lifestyle of nothing more than simple existence and good times with no conflict. With that, I can comfortably state that I have nothing left to say on the matter for today- I'll be back to whine some more tomorrow. One love.