I can hear two guys talking. I’m not sure if they’re outside or at a window. Either way, I can smell them smoking what definitely seems to be a spliff [cross-cultural explanation: joint, jazz cigarette, the wacky backy, mary jane, pot]. I briefly considered going out and seeing if I could buy some, but then I realised I don’t have any cash on me and, more to the point, smoking pot alone is incredibly dull. My pot-smoking days back at university were mostly defined by meaningless and yet incredibly deep conversations across the kitchen table, dry mouth and half-closed eyes, laughter and vodka. The good stuff was all facilitated by the drug - it wasn’t the drug itself.
Later on I lived with two incredibly pathetic addicts, who would get up and do a couple of bong hits. Play on the X-Box and do a couple of bong hits. Have lunch and do a couple of bong hits. Watch Neighbours and do a couple of bong hits. Play on the X-Box some more and do a couple of bong hits. Order take-away and do a couple of bong hits. Drop out of university and do a couple of bong hits. One of them was a small-time dealer. It was quite interesting seeing him divide a shopping back full of sticky green buds into nice little eighths in little bags. The rest of their behaviour seemed so utterly depressing that, after my 22nd birthday, when I made some awesome hash-filled brownies for everyone to enjoy, I had very little interest in using any more pot.
Earlier, a magpie landed on the ledge outside my window. I stayed still on my couch. It stared at me with a mad yellow eye. I stared back. Then it sidestepped along, heading for the open window. This was obscured by my curtains as I’ve been watching DVD’s on my computer and half-pulling them gets rid of screen-glare. I moved and it flew away. I don’t really want a bird flying around my room. I imagine this would be a singularly stressful event for both of us. A pigeon’s wings brushed against my window today, too. I have no idea why they’re so attracted to it. Considering that I live within a twenty minute walk of a large city-centre, it’s suprising how much avian life there is around here. Not just pigeons and magpies, but collared doves and what I think are swallows. If I wanted nature, I’d live in the country.
I can hear two guys talking. I’m not sure if they’re outside or at a window. Either way, I can smell them smoking what definitely seems to be a spliff [cross-cultural explanation: joint, jazz cigarette, the wacky backy, mary jane, pot]. I briefly considered going out and seeing if I could buy some, but then I realised I don’t have any cash on me and, more to the point, smoking pot alone is incredibly dull. My pot-smoking days back at university were mostly defined by meaningless and yet incredibly deep conversations across the kitchen table, dry mouth and half-closed eyes, laughter and vodka. The good stuff was all facilitated by the drug - it wasn’t the drug itself.
Later on I lived with two incredibly pathetic addicts, who would get up and do a couple of bong hits. Play on the X-Box and do a couple of bong hits. Have lunch and do a couple of bong hits. Watch Neighbours and do a couple of bong hits. Play on the X-Box some more and do a couple of bong hits. Order take-away and do a couple of bong hits. Drop out of university and do a couple of bong hits. One of them was a small-time dealer. It was quite interesting seeing him divide a shopping back full of sticky green buds into nice little eighths in little bags. The rest of their behaviour seemed so utterly depressing that, after my 22nd birthday, when I made some awesome hash-filled brownies for everyone to enjoy, I had very little interest in using any more pot.
Earlier, a magpie landed on the ledge outside my window. I stayed still on my couch. It stared at me with a mad yellow eye. I stared back. Then it sidestepped along, heading for the open window. This was obscured by my curtains as I’ve been watching DVD’s on my computer and half-pulling them gets rid of screen-glare. I moved and it flew away. I don’t really want a bird flying around my room. I imagine this would be a singularly stressful event for both of us. A pigeon’s wings brushed against my window today, too. I have no idea why they’re so attracted to it. Considering that I live within a twenty minute walk of a large city-centre, it’s suprising how much avian life there is around here. Not just pigeons and magpies, but collared doves and what I think are swallows. If I wanted nature, I’d live in the country.