102523
cannibal cannabis
The taste of blue dream tickles my taste buds and travels down my throat; a reminder that I am a fallible creature of habit that creeps back into tonics that are not the most productive for the ideals set for
Breathing it in. I love the taste, it gives me a deep sensation of healing that I’ve felt since the first time I got high twelve years ago. Such a familiar taste, smell, and tactile sensation of vapor tickled my esophagus with a burning going down to my lungs. Sweet pungency that I crave, that it is not all in my head, and screams out from my bones. Why must I feel shame for doing what saves my life?
I will not. I have a different lived experience from the average stoner—while I do understand a paranoid perspective, I do not feel bound to make my ritual about social politics. The worry cannibalizes the mind and takes away from the positive effects of the cannabinoids