Smoking and missing my brother (again)

22 01 2011
Stopped weed again after last weekend (the ‘E’ weekend) and I notice a dramatic increase in my nicotine consumption. Which at the moment could be described as ‘chain~~smoking’. The usual pattern would be me doing stuff like planning, concepting, designing or whatever. After finishing like a ‘section’ of work I would take a cigarette lean back and reflect on what is in front of me. Either in my ‘mind’, writing or ‘image’. I always enjoy those cigarettes. The taste, the smoke, the flavour. I ‘enjoy’ those smokes period. This is different though. My throat is sour the smoke tastes sharp and sour and there is no ‘enjoyment’. When I smoke weed It’s mostly after everything is done. This may come as no surprise to those who are experienced potheads that have to make a living for themselves.

I ones did an experiment with a colleague and friend J.K. We both worked for the same advertising agency. Normally every day was stuffed with work and we would be going home with a buzz in our heads and burning eyes from staring at monitors for way too long and having headaches from being in a ‘air-conditioned sick-building’.

In this case we where nearing the end of a project so the stress levels where decreasing. We where on our lunch brake and around 14.00 hours walking through the centre of Enschede (that would be in the netherlands). So we passed by the famous coffeeshop Mix. Maybe I have to explain that you can order coffee there but most people buy they’re weed or hasj in ‘a coffeeshop’. This is holland remember. So we walked through this cloud of fine cannabis odours and potheads as we are we take a deep breath. Ooh nice. I had this unwritten rule to never be under influence while working, especially while working inside with other people. But we looked at each other and decided to do an experiment. We would buy a ‘ready-rolled’ and smoke it while walking back to the office and see what would happen those last 4 hours of the day. So that we did. While smoking we walked and the THC kicked in. It was in the mid of summer so we felt chill and relaxed behind our sunglasses. Up till the moment we entered the office building and got into the elevator.

The bussing of the airco, the remains of smells from other people, the electricity. The whole experience immediately changed. My heart rate increased and I didn’t feel ‘comfortable’ anymore. Back at my desk I dove back into my work and the first thing I noticed was that my thoughts where like a bunch of hysterical children running around in my head. My mind was unable to get back into the programming needed for the work on hand. If I focussed on my layouts my eyes kind of had there own plan. I wanted to look there but they where over here. It would have been funny if my heart wasn’t pounding like it did. The whole room felt like this scene from the matrix where neo sees 3 agents at the end of the hallway and everything is in green code but I was definitly not ‘the one’. OK 3,5 more hours to go and I’m out a here. What a nightmare. I looked at J.K. and he looked back with ay very affirmative look in his eyes as we made ‘the pistol to the head gesture’. He was going through the exact same experience. Now we had this room where we made mockups, prints and dummybooks. Kind of the illegal retreat room so to speak. We gave each other the sign and got the hell out of the studio.

First reaction J.K.? “A nightmare!” Specifics? Anxiety, claustrophobia, panic, etc. It was the same with me. The whole environment became ‘hostile’ in our experience. Now what did this tell us? I mean are we freaking out or are we becoming aware of the insanity of this place? We both opted for the last conclusion.

What does this tell me about weed. I mean weed is my stability point. I adore this stuff like a brother (or sister). I remember the first time I had my own harvest and I mean harvest! It was like 1,5kg from one tree I was allowed to grow in my mothers garden. W and I took it back to Almelo where I studied at the deva. We could smoke as much as we wanted because we didn’t have to pay a penny for the shit and it sold well in school. So we were smoking like 4-6 grams at once in water pipes just to see what would happen. Shit happened believe me. Listening to Kind of blue by Miles Davis became like a ride on the back of an elephant over the bottom of the ocean lit by fluorescent lightning. Captain Beefheart felt like an army of Trolls marching trough my room. Tom Waits sounded like Thor if he ever existed. I was transformed by those experiences back then and I really fell in love with weed. It was also my ultimate painkiller. I used it for everything and a lot of times it really supported me. Except for those moments I was hiding away from stuff. There’s my confession. ‘I’ ‘love’ it like a brother and stopping in my weed addiction feels like ending a very intimate ‘relationship’. In essence I think that’s what it is for me.

The outcome of our experiment only confirmed that ‘this brother’ was actually brutally clear about the environment I called my place of employment. It was hell there. Locked in to my normal system with ‘my brother’ at home waiting for me enabled me to bare the mental and physical lunacy that is ‘an advertising agency’. Stoned and in slow-motion with ‘brother’ whistling in my ear telling me the truth, it more or less became visible and sensible where I was and what was there. Of coarse ‘I’ knew I was under influence so I blamed brother for a bad trip. But was this really the case?
Relationships are always complicated but this one is mind boggling. I know its an addiction point. I see I’m addicted but the strange thing is...

I find stopping weed actually easier than cigarettes (I think). I really could use some perspective on this. In the abstract, If this where a choice I would quit smoking and remain a pothead though. It almost feels like mutual respect. And when I smoked pot at the end of a day my cigarette consumption always lay between 10-15 cigarettes on average. This becomes increasingly more interesting although I see it has nothing to do with self honesty and standing equal. It’s not about that. It’s an observation, I read the article about Marihuana and what it is meant to do.

But my question remains. Why am I smoking like a chimney right now? Where does this come from?

Ooops 02.32 have to be up at 07.00. Good night.