Try to recall the oddity of how some people can be so calm – I tell myself this whenever I can feel my blood boiling. Among other things over the last week, tonight was a personal offence to my ego/life principle. I’ve always been open about my mostly prune-ish lifestyle. Among Vancouverites, I am largely unpopular in the opinion that I hate this thing they like to refer to nowadays as medical marijuana. I’m sorry, that’s about the same difference to me as somebody trying to redefine shitty work politics as smart maneuvers when in fact it is bold as day – kiss my ass.
In even more intelligent terms to describe my feelings towards this substance, it is a massive boner-killer. There, that got through to more audience than I’ve ever managed to in years.
Thing is, even a dude, like mine tonight, wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about losing out on potential sex with their girl when they’re like that…who cares when you’re baked, right?
For many reasons, that sickens me. Mostly because an ex had walked out in order to deal drugs (and then knock on my door a year later to say it’s all fucked – way to go, I certainly did not go easy on him). But also just in the most fundamental terms of knowing/envisioning what I do and do not want in life, and what follows is definitely strongly worded and not popular – you are warned. I do wish I had a more affectionate way to communicate the following for potential partners to come, “you are welcome to join the 100% of ex’s that had chosen this substance, among others; as well the 90% of population that would rather be high than sober too. I don’t want to date 90% of the world then, I want the 10%.” Am I a complete asshole to then also apply the statistics that 90% of the world lives in mediocrity with an optimistic 10% living their dreams? Yeah, I want the sober rocking 10%.
This is all a very broad idea and obtusely judgmental, but just let me vent for awhile.
Certainly it’s a bias opinion that does not apply to my friends, just because my life principles have weird exceptions and my conscience seems to only want to apply this singularly on that one. Certainly my take on this intake has been greatly overcast by bad experiences. Bad relationships; watching bad husbands smoke up the house while their first time wife (my friend) struggle through the first week with her newborn – honestly, husband-man-child, fuck your many life excuses for anxiety, she just shit out a 9 pound baby, now with lopsided pregnancy boobs and baby piss on her hands in the middle of the night – bless her. I also understand being inebriated by alcohol is just as valid to non-soberism as well, in which case I am by on all means, guilty every so often. I even seem to comprehend the very contradictory fact that I am a fan of many comedians/celebrities that condone these activities. Bravo to you. You’re hilarious. I am, however, starting to understand that I am always going to be me in my personal romantic life. And much as people may deny with my young age that I will change my mind one day, I don’t foresee a circumstance to which I will willingly walk alongside any induced state of anxious-free/happiness with aided drugs manifesting to be my one and only. Understanding that, just for myself, and trying desperately each day to fully grasp my own worth, I say I am just as pathetically romantic as I am likely unreasonably hateful/strict towards certain life choices like above. I am probably one of the greatest friend/lover you will ever come across if you mean well, and one of the most ridiculously small-minded person about ‘regular’ hip and socially acceptable things like these. Of which directed is only ever to the one.
It’s a little cruel isn’t it?
This repeated occasion does exasperate me to an extent. If only I was more carefree right? What I discovered while I was trying to find a way to not let finding this out tonight about my partner across the world and for it to ruin my evening all the way here is to find that collective calm I’ve been working hard to foster this last week. Capture it, Sarah. It’s his choice, to be 90% or the 10%. All of this frustration is just a tiny space capsule in your mind. It is definitely finite.Let it sail in inertia and not be bothered.
Side note: get high on your kitty litter, neatly cut up fruits and too much tea. Yes, I am rocking my own life. What percentage of 20 year olds can you find that enjoy that.