A few weeks ago, I was on the phone with a … friend. A friend whom knew that I enjoyed using cannabis for spiritual upliftment, and provocation of dance, thought and truth. Having known him since June, he decides that it is time to make things more serious. But I like to be sure before I take the responsibility of harboring another’s heart. I want to take things slow and he agrees to wait and we do.
I remember being so excited when I told him about my first grow. And I may be crazy but I remember him being excited about it too. I remember talking to him about how lonely I felt being away from my home town, and on a sleepless night after thoroughly cleaning my room and watching Love Jones something in my spirit still would not rest. Something in me felt the desire to nurture. So after having done a lot of reading and learning I began my very first grow. Yea, I can remember telling him about how she got her name, Queen Marley Sheen. I remember telling him that I sang to her and played her Joanna Newsom’s “Sprout and the Bean” and how she danced and swayed. I remember telling him that whenever I’m free I talk to her, and that I was talking to her right then. She gave me something to look forward to and a reason to feel important. Yet he was insensitive to all of this and really tried to belittle the whole affair. “Dat shit don’t need no love. All it need is dirt…and wawta.” I tried explaining to him all the experiments I read about and he cut me off with “Yes weedy I love you, and I want you to grow all big and strong…SO I CAN CUT YOU DOWN AND SMOKE YOU UP!” I have to admit, he really made me laugh with that one, so I didn’t think much of it and I let it go.
Like a month after that he told me, stern but respectfully “Listen. I know you have your own mind but hear this. I’m going to say this once: I don’t want you to smoke. I want you to take care of yourself and stop that. You’re too smart and pretty for that and I want you to know I am serious when I talk. I mean it. I want you to sleep on it.” I listened to him and too caught up in the fact that his “Daddy-Mode” way of expressing himself turned me on, I brushed it off again.
Later on that month I was talking to him on FaceTime. I told him I had some spinach, because I don’t lie. Not only am I not ashamed of myself, but I don’t lie to people I care about. Anyways, he pulls out this FAT sack of spinach like – half a freezerbag full. Just to show me. Cool.
Later on, I was texting him and he was apologizing for not replying to me all weekend because he was partying. He told me something about smoking an eighth of silver haze. I didn’t trip, I know how it is.
But by the end of that week, I had me a little smoke too. Wait- ALOTTA SMOKE. Anyway, on the way home from my little get together he texts me that he’s in Love with me. It made me feel warm, but skeptical. When I got home he called me and instead of talking about what our next move would be, we talk about the weed thing again. I did most of the talking 1. Because I get that way when I’m high and 2. Because I knew I was ZOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTED and I didn’t want him to detect it. I knew it must hurt him since he kept bringing it up. So I said to him “You’re right. You have every right to express concern over the body that may very well one day carry your children, and I guess I oughtta stop too.” The whole time I was saying this the only thing I oughtta been doing was asking myself just who I was trying to convince. But instead I subordinated and decided I wanted a relationship with him more than refer.
SO
The next day I was in the library studying for my final coming up in the next two hours.
I remember being so excited when I told him about my first grow. And I may be crazy but I remember him being excited about it too. I remember talking to him about how lonely I felt being away from my home town, and on a sleepless night after thoroughly cleaning my room and watching Love Jones something in my spirit still would not rest. Something in me felt the desire to nurture. So after having done a lot of reading and learning I began my very first grow. Yea, I can remember telling him about how she got her name, Queen Marley Sheen. I remember telling him that I sang to her and played her Joanna Newsom’s “Sprout and the Bean” and how she danced and swayed. I remember telling him that whenever I’m free I talk to her, and that I was talking to her right then. She gave me something to look forward to and a reason to feel important. Yet he was insensitive to all of this and really tried to belittle the whole affair. “Dat shit don’t need no love. All it need is dirt…and wawta.” I tried explaining to him all the experiments I read about and he cut me off with “Yes weedy I love you, and I want you to grow all big and strong…SO I CAN CUT YOU DOWN AND SMOKE YOU UP!” I have to admit, he really made me laugh with that one, so I didn’t think much of it and I let it go.
Like a month after that he told me, stern but respectfully “Listen. I know you have your own mind but hear this. I’m going to say this once: I don’t want you to smoke. I want you to take care of yourself and stop that. You’re too smart and pretty for that and I want you to know I am serious when I talk. I mean it. I want you to sleep on it.” I listened to him and too caught up in the fact that his “Daddy-Mode” way of expressing himself turned me on, I brushed it off again.
Later on that month I was talking to him on FaceTime. I told him I had some spinach, because I don’t lie. Not only am I not ashamed of myself, but I don’t lie to people I care about. Anyways, he pulls out this FAT sack of spinach like – half a freezerbag full. Just to show me. Cool.
Later on, I was texting him and he was apologizing for not replying to me all weekend because he was partying. He told me something about smoking an eighth of silver haze. I didn’t trip, I know how it is.
But by the end of that week, I had me a little smoke too. Wait- ALOTTA SMOKE. Anyway, on the way home from my little get together he texts me that he’s in Love with me. It made me feel warm, but skeptical. When I got home he called me and instead of talking about what our next move would be, we talk about the weed thing again. I did most of the talking 1. Because I get that way when I’m high and 2. Because I knew I was ZOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTED and I didn’t want him to detect it. I knew it must hurt him since he kept bringing it up. So I said to him “You’re right. You have every right to express concern over the body that may very well one day carry your children, and I guess I oughtta stop too.” The whole time I was saying this the only thing I oughtta been doing was asking myself just who I was trying to convince. But instead I subordinated and decided I wanted a relationship with him more than refer.
SO
The next day I was in the library studying for my final coming up in the next two hours.
