For a different point of view: I smoke alone.

To set up the scene a little: I just spent two days in Eugene hanging out with various people. It seems like I was trying to capture something that I thought I used to have but didn't. But that's not the real issue, the real issue is, fuck it. I think I'm going to smoke a bowl and see if life's problems can really float away on a cloud of smoke. Huh, I guess life's problems really can float away on a cloud of smoke. It doesn't matter that I committed all kinds of social faux pauxs causing me to look like a jack ass on at least three occasions. It doesn't matter that I my original budget for the weekend went all to hell because of an overlooked cell phone charger. It doesn't matter that I have the last wireless training test tomorrow and I just couldn't concentrate on studying in class. Wow, this weed is good. It feels like I'm floating upside down like in those old squirrel cages at the carnival. My sense of perspective is weird. It's like I'm laying on the ground typing on the computer that's some how lower that where I am laying on the ground. Ha ha, I'm going to keep that in, even though I don't know if it will make any sense later. What's weird is that I can control this weird sense of vertigo, any time I want I can divert my eyes from the computer screen and the world feels normal again. Weird, damn it, negative thoughts are starting to invade this high. But now I forgot them, so that's okay. So where was I before that diversion? Hmmm, oh yeah. It's kind of depressing to think about where I was at the beginning of this entry. My other issue is the fact that my mood can go from the deepest pits of depression to happy indifference with just a few puffs. Yeah it's nice, but does that mean I'm incapable of experiencing this happiness without it? No, that's not true. I can still have real fun without weed, like Friday at the Eugene Celebration. I think it's time for another hit. Now those thoughts of failure are creeping into my mind. This is bad, this line of thought can be very bad. I don't want to obsess on every little mistake that I made this weekend. I don't want to analyze every bit of social interaction that I had this weekend. So I won't, but even as I write this I'm starting to feel that overwhelming guilt that I know will come later. It's inevitable. It's funny that these emotions are so familiar to me. Planning or not planning a weekend, budgeting for it way to liberally and then breaking that budget anyway. There's the anticipation of the planning and the weekend; the countdown on the calender; the sense of optimism or angst on the way there, the freedom of being there, then inevitable plunge into. . . . well and so on. Anyway, I lost that line of thought, so it might be interesting to read later. And as suddenly as this entry began, it ends. I'm off for something more interesting to entertain my stoned mind.