Thursday, May 02, 2013

The Leamington Spliff

I am aware of unnatural behaviour. Of trends being bucked. Of moulds being broken.

The natural order of things has changed. I first noticed it on a personal level. A sudden dropping off of ambition. I didn’t feel like writing so much anymore. All these amazing projects that normally fill my head suddenly felt tired and trad, man, and not at all in the spirit of filling up my senses like a night in the forest. They felt like too much work. Like I’d be directing my energies into channels that would just end up clogging my chakras, dude. I mean, why stress so much? Just kick back and relax. Let life wash over me. Surf it on the surfboard of my mind. Commune with my naval. Inhale deeply and imbibe. You know?

And then I kinda stopped caring so much. About stuff. Stuff that I can’t even get my head around to describe to you here. Big stuff. Complicated stuff. Stuff that doesn’t really matter because it is in no way cosmic or fundamental to my inner child.

And I thought hey this is weird. This is sooo not like me. I usually dig a bit of stress. I like a prick or two to kick against. But I was suddenly like all woo rather than all whoa. My yin was coping fine without my yang. What was happening?

And then I noticed changes on the outside of me too. Among my fellow town brethren. Everyone seemed more at ease. Like on a chilled level. Even the police crime statistics state that violent crime in the county has, like, totally dropped off. People are downing their knives and Kalashnikovs and just shooting the breeze with each other. They’re chilling with their bros and hos. Good times, you know?

So, like, what’s the causality behind this sudden mellowness?

For a long, long time I couldn’t even think about it ‘cos I was just so chillaxed. But then it kinda wafted against me on the breeze as I drifted home from work the other night. It kinda sidled up to me and then got right up inside me in a totally non-sexual way. It was in the air, man, and I breathed it in.

Marijuana.

It’s like scenting the air all over town. You can’t walk anywhere for long in this town of mine without some generous bro sending a special token of his love spiralling out into the atmosphere – it’s big toke love time, dudes.

Walking home for me is like walking through a huge hollowed out spliff. I travel through a drug tunnel every time I leave the house.

And suddenly my increased cravings for chocolate and snacks about mid-afternoon make perfect sense. Life is giving me the munchies.

And on one level I should be upset ‘cos it means I ain’t writing like I ought to. It means I’m not getting myself out of my career situation by the sweat of my brow or the toil of my mind. But on the other, sometimes it just nice to step outside and breathe in the free air.

You know what I’m saying?

Hmm?

23 comments:

libby said...

Oh dear.......I may have smoked a bit of that for a while there back in the day......in a flat on Radford Road, in the park, in a pub......seems like nothing changes eh? In fact I seriously considered making a special cake for my Ma recently to calm her down.....only for about 5 mins though....then changed my mind....maybe she should just try walking your route home?

Craig said...

Yeah man, I hear ya... Really? I can't imagine that it's so wide spread you smell it everywhere. I can't stand the smell so can tell it a mile off and I can confirm that I've never smelled it up here. Not that the lack of it makes me any more creative you understand?

Steve said...

Libby: she'd end up so calm she'd somnambulate.

Craig: it's possible that I've exaggerated a little bit. Passive drug taking can do that to you.

John Gray said...

I cannot smoke anything..... Which is a pity..... I did however once ate a pot quiche and had the best SEX EVER at 4 am in the morning when it hit home
Hey ho

Gorilla Bananas said...

This must be the first time anyone became a pothead from inhaling second hand smoke. Play your cards right and you could become a cult figure for children who get drunk on shandy.

Steve said...

John: quiche as an aphrodisiac? Now that I didn't see coming.

Gorilla Bananas: those kids already think of me as a right cult, I can assure you.

the fly in the web said...

My mother inadvertently ate pot cakes at a Green Festival in Norfolk, years ago.
I found her in a teepee contemplating buying a pair of pink Turkish trousers from a man sorely in need of a haircut.
It was a distinct improvement on normal mother.

Steve said...

The fly in the web: I'm sure the UK government would function better if they were slipped hash brownies alongside bromide in their tea. Some drugs do wonders for a body's personality.

rjchery said...

Deep, man!
Yeah, I noticed it in Covent Garden the last time I was there. I couldn't escape the smell and yet everyone looked so....well...middle class!!!

Nota Bene said...

Perhaps the police are blowing smoke down the chimneys of would-be criminals to make them chill...excellent idea

Marginalia said...

You're confusing being high with losing your marbles.

Steve said...

rjchery: hash - the great social leveller.

Nota Bene: a blue sky thinking approach to crime prevention. I like it.

Marginalia: either way I feel an odd kind of contentment.

Kelloggs Ville said...

my entire village smells like that most of the time despite the constant reports of yet another 'factory' in a rented house being closed down. Sometimes I look around at the rolling green fields, breathe in deeply and think to myself 'damn me, the local electricity grid must be working hard', still, the snow melts fast and everyone is cool about queuing at the coop for munchies. No queue rage here man.

Steve said...

Kelloggs Ville: sounds like your village is keeping the Rizzla people financially buoyant.

Being Me said...

This could explain a lot.

Steve said...

Being Me: a nice hit of skunk explains everything. Apparently.

Rol said...

I'm sorry... did you say something?

(Heh, my captcha is: "soodit contains"... which, if you think about it... that's deep.)

Steve said...

Rol: soodit contains nuts. Betcha any money.

Keith said...

Literary history is littered with stoners.

So just breath it all in deep and, like, go create man.

Steve said...

Keith: yeah, me and Keith Moon, we're like that, man...

The Sagittarian said...

Tours of "High Street' just aren't the same now days are they!! :-0

Trish Burgess said...

I must have had a sheltered childhood. Even at University I had no clue about strange aromas at parties. Such a good girl. Did I miss something good, I wonder?

Steve said...

Amanda: I seem to just cough my way through them these days.

Trish: possibly but those who partook can't remember.