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Bong Hits before Bed
MEMOIR PROJECT ROUGH DRAFT
Hide the bong, hot box the cig, form a smoke cloud, dilute the smell, drop the Viceroy in the toilet with a hiss, flush, move to desk, open geometry assignment. Sedated. THC calm. Focus. Despite all the soda I’ve drank, despite how fried my nerves were earlier, despite my Spring Fever in class, I can focus now. I can concentrate. Theorem, axiom, Euclid, Uncle Pythagoras, angle, rule, shape, hypotenuse, cosine, deduction, answer: it seems so simple a child could make sense of the shapes and angles and measurements. My mind is like a giant mechanism when turned the right way, everything aligns, clicks together and locks. It clicks and forms an understanding of geometry. Didn’t make a lick of sense in class, but now it is crystal clear. I could pick the geometric pieces up and put them together with my hands and I feel I am doing just that in this stoned state of mind. It is good. I forget about Devil Spirits in this geometric world. I finish my assignment, brush my teeth and go to bed around 1:00 a.m. I read a chapter from the Bible then turn off the lights and smoke another Viceroy in bed in the dark. I snuff out the butt and hide the ashtray under my bed. Headphones. Led Zeppelin. Drifting on the waving seas of stonerismness. Sleeping wide asleep awake music on my skin thoughts in my mind cool and taking me away from here to Kashmir on exotic melodies eastern and foreign haunting cymbals shatter droplets of magic off my skin across my body down my legs—!thump!—what the fuck was that that just hit the heel of my foot? Oh shit! I’ve lost myself in the music! Could that feeling like someone just hit me in the heel of my foot have been a Devil Spirit entering my body? It could be. I would think you could feel it when a Spirit enters your body. Oh shit! Listen to music, but speak in tongues. Exercise it away. Shelole hilapin di nekiv joalaki rah dolja zzz…
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