SATURDAY, JANUARY 14, 2012 6:37 P.M. E.S.T.
SORTIE 4 OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A
EQUIPMENT Commodore Barry
ENTRY 1
Long, long start to this year. Found out what it was like to have none of the modern conveniences I that take for granted, and it sucks. Got a new designated dealer, worked through a hook-up/connect, and very pleased. B. Cents and his blunt fucked me up good, and I got to see the hottest little number I know for a short bit. So much was discussed marijuana-wise in the past twenty-four hour period that I've gotta stop, take a hit, and think about the thoughts I wanted to touch on.
HIT! x2
Let's just go with a simple subject, one that has been a major concern for a bit: Dealers. I don't know of a single dealer that I would consider a Stoner, and mind you, dealer does not mean a friend you get pot off of and shoot the shit with for the rest of the night, but an acquaintance of a strictly business nature. Let's face it, unless you've been going to the dude for a good bit, or you have a generally great report (reputation), most dealers are just looking to get your money, give you whatever they have, and be on their way. Unless they were exceptional businessmen (I was blessed with that type of dealer at college), or like minded individuals, I don't think I have ever had a dealer I would trust.
Showing posts with label pothead. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pothead. Show all posts
14 January 2012
05 January 2012
Our Most Basic of Enemy
THURSDAY, JANUARY 5, 2012 1:37 A.M. E.S.T.
SORTIE 1 OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A
EQUIPMENT Old Blue Eyes
ENTRY 1
Fear... It is the great divider, the one thing that determines everything in human interaction. Either you overcome it, or you submit to it. You can take the reins in your hands and hold on for the ride, knowing that there is a strong chance you'll be better off for conquering that foe; or you can sit down and allow it to rule your decisions, infect your thought and spoil your hopes. I feel compelled to present to you the reality that I am a fearing man. I am afraid of what my actions will entail, what my words will insight, and what my future holds for me. I am afraid that what I do is futile, what I participate in will fail, and what I hope for will never be realized. I am afraid of many many things. Yet, I have chosen not to submit to this tyrannical fear that has come to define our human condition, as well as our social situations.
SORTIE 1 OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A
EQUIPMENT Old Blue Eyes
ENTRY 1
GB HIT!
Fear... It is the great divider, the one thing that determines everything in human interaction. Either you overcome it, or you submit to it. You can take the reins in your hands and hold on for the ride, knowing that there is a strong chance you'll be better off for conquering that foe; or you can sit down and allow it to rule your decisions, infect your thought and spoil your hopes. I feel compelled to present to you the reality that I am a fearing man. I am afraid of what my actions will entail, what my words will insight, and what my future holds for me. I am afraid that what I do is futile, what I participate in will fail, and what I hope for will never be realized. I am afraid of many many things. Yet, I have chosen not to submit to this tyrannical fear that has come to define our human condition, as well as our social situations.
31 December 2011
Lacking
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 31, 2011 3:19AM E.S.T.
SORTIE 3 OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A
EQUIPMENT General Wayne
ENTRY 1
My thanks to J. Rags for hitting me up and calling me a pussy. It was aggravating trying to explain what a muse is, and he couldn't grip it due to the lack of scope I had provided, so he just called me a pussy. Anyway, it has been difficult to write recently. The entries lack the spark that I try to instill in my writing, that little flame that ignites a fire. Amazing how integrated our lives can be, if we choose to allow it. But, time to hit this packed bowl.
So, I smoked a total of nineteen times on Thursday... from the time I woke up, until midnight, I smoked nineteen fucking times. And not once did I lose any function. This is both amazing and alarming. Amazing in the sense that after hot boxing a car with two simultaneous blunts, I was able to drive to hang with the band and proceed to smoke a bong and seven bowls (Mind you the circle was large, so there was an average of four hits a bowl per person). Alarming in the sense that I never got TOO high. I was debating whether or not you can voluntarily be a burn out, but I was unable to accomplish said feat. I couldn't do it, and I was trying.
SORTIE 3 OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A
EQUIPMENT General Wayne
ENTRY 1
My thanks to J. Rags for hitting me up and calling me a pussy. It was aggravating trying to explain what a muse is, and he couldn't grip it due to the lack of scope I had provided, so he just called me a pussy. Anyway, it has been difficult to write recently. The entries lack the spark that I try to instill in my writing, that little flame that ignites a fire. Amazing how integrated our lives can be, if we choose to allow it. But, time to hit this packed bowl.
GH HIT!
So, I smoked a total of nineteen times on Thursday... from the time I woke up, until midnight, I smoked nineteen fucking times. And not once did I lose any function. This is both amazing and alarming. Amazing in the sense that after hot boxing a car with two simultaneous blunts, I was able to drive to hang with the band and proceed to smoke a bong and seven bowls (Mind you the circle was large, so there was an average of four hits a bowl per person). Alarming in the sense that I never got TOO high. I was debating whether or not you can voluntarily be a burn out, but I was unable to accomplish said feat. I couldn't do it, and I was trying.
29 December 2011
Late Night Clean Out
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 29, 2011 3:57AM E.S.T.
SORTIE 3 OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A
EQUIPMENT Commodore Barry, General Wayne
ENTRY 1
I detest night/mornings like this one. I have not slept, nor do I have the intention of sleeping. I've been looking for a second job for most of the evening, one that would allow me to continue to smoke weed. The most I can come up with is trying to get the Log published... Which, at this moment, seems an insurmountable task.
You see, though I use marijuana to inspire me to write, etc., it really takes a muse to make me work. Someone who I feel like I'm writing for. Sure, with this CyberLog, people are reading what I'm saying, but for the sake of the actual Flight Log, the paper and ink creation that has been boiling from inside of me since September 18th, I have no one who reads it. There are entries, more than one a day for the most part, that remain hidden from your eyes. It has been near two months since Beth has even read a single page. In real life, life outside of the internet, I have not a single muse to inspire such elegant writing as that which graces the first month or so of the Log.
SORTIE 3 OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A
EQUIPMENT Commodore Barry, General Wayne
ENTRY 1
I detest night/mornings like this one. I have not slept, nor do I have the intention of sleeping. I've been looking for a second job for most of the evening, one that would allow me to continue to smoke weed. The most I can come up with is trying to get the Log published... Which, at this moment, seems an insurmountable task.
HIT! (Commodore Barry has a blend of Purple Haze and Afghan Goo)
You see, though I use marijuana to inspire me to write, etc., it really takes a muse to make me work. Someone who I feel like I'm writing for. Sure, with this CyberLog, people are reading what I'm saying, but for the sake of the actual Flight Log, the paper and ink creation that has been boiling from inside of me since September 18th, I have no one who reads it. There are entries, more than one a day for the most part, that remain hidden from your eyes. It has been near two months since Beth has even read a single page. In real life, life outside of the internet, I have not a single muse to inspire such elegant writing as that which graces the first month or so of the Log.
19 December 2011
Electro-Log
MONDAY, DECEMBER 19, 2011 2:33AM E.S.T.
SORTIE 2 OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A
EQUIPMENT General Wayne
ENTRY 1
This is extremely weird for me to conduct an entry without writing it with my pen, on an actual piece of paper... but hey, gotta keep up with the times I suppose. Damn times, always changing. So, hehehe, let's figure out how to mark a...
Hit!
SORTIE 2 OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A
EQUIPMENT General Wayne
ENTRY 1
This is extremely weird for me to conduct an entry without writing it with my pen, on an actual piece of paper... but hey, gotta keep up with the times I suppose. Damn times, always changing. So, hehehe, let's figure out how to mark a...
Hit!
I think the different color thing works, especially since it is as close to how I actually mark it in the Log itself. I'm going to fill yous in on exactly what I've been doing for three months, and how this blogspot plays into the scheme of things.
The FLIGHT LOG is a daily journal I keep, in which all of the writing and drawing are completed while high, unless otherwise noted. I use a Waterman Fountain Pen, writing on college ruled loose paper, in a rugged binder, wherever I may be sitting at the time. I find that my ideas can flow from my head to the paper through the pen more easily than if I were sitting with a laptop struggling to find the right lighting so that I can read what I'm typing while also limiting myself to where there is an outlet to keep my computer powered. I find inspiration in the outdoors...I've written five or ten page entries while sitting atop a boulder, or dangling m
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