Life update and what not

Life, haha. It's been interesting these last couple months. I've changed interest and even somewhat hobbies you could say. I have been running lately which has been excellent. My breathing has been rough but thats asthma for yah. I'm just glad I dont have to choke on some intense type of inhaler which is dope. I do miss my inhaler though, kinda like you miss flying kites with dad. I mean it's not a necessity you could say, but its a nice novelty that you dont always get. (daddy issues) I've got a therapist now, which is kinda deep I guess. I dont get to see him again until the 21st, but que sera sera ya know? I dont wanna get toooo personal on here, but life has been rough lately. Even when I know things are good in life I still feel down, but that's just the inconvenience of living with depression I guess huh? I didn't have a label for it until lately. It's kinda nice to have something to blame it on, like a crutch. This is such a random assortment of ideas. Listen to the Dirty Projectors- About to die in specific. That's enough for now.

Etiquette

I'm literally only posting this because it's quite frankly necessary for most human beings to see. Cause y'all need Jesus. GANJA ETIQUETTE Written By: Groda Lotsapot 1. The person who rolls the joint (no matter whose weed it is) gets to spark up the joint and get first hit. 2. If someone rolls a nice joint, it’s good to give the person a complement on his rolling skills. 3. If someone starts bogarting the bowl and starts using the excuse that it’s okay for him to Bogart it since it's his weed; this is definitely not cool. The punishment depends on the quality of the weed and how much he put in. (if it was real crappy and he was real cheap with it, then you bug on the person and rag on him) 4. If someone is too palsy to light the bowl (due to being too stoned or the person is just a retard) then they must relinquish control of the lighter to someone more able to get it lit. This does NOT mean the person who lights gets free hits... this privilege tends to get abused ("hey lemme light it for you.") 5. If someone is so much of a palsy that they blow INTO the pipe/joint and blow all the shit on the floor, this person must be ragged on and the person can't smoke on the next round (unless it was his stuff) 6. If you smoke with someone in your house, you should let him or her eat some munchies you may have lying around... don't be cheap with your food, if you have any. 7. If someone who's smoked asks for a sip of your soda, you must give him some, (cotton mouth is not fun). 8. Converse of #7: if you ask for a sip, don't take a large gulp. 9. If smoking from a joint, never put the whole thing in your mouth and get it all sopping wet. It is disgusting and it messes up the joint. 10. If you’re smoking from a bong and there is not enough in the bowl for a whole other hit, you should save the smoke in the chamber for the next person. (Don't let go of the rushhold or 'carb' and take it all yourself) 11. Never bogart 12. Never bitch about someone else's weed being no good. If you don't like it don't smoke it! 13. If a friend gets you high sometime in the future you need to get that friend high 14. Thou shall not turn down a smoke. Ever! 15. Phrased in the form of a narrative: My buddy and I are sitting around smoking the weed that I just scored. After flaming-up, and taking a few moderate puffs, I pass it on. The sounds that follow can only be described as vacuum-like. After a couple of huge, lung-busting tokes, the guy passes back the remnants of something that could have, at some point, been a joint. If it's not completely "canoed", then it's absolutely soaked. I not so subtly drop that old Cheech & Chong line "Hey man, can I wring it out for you?" He just looks at me. 16. I have noticed the following: After smoking-up, the odd "crass-monkey" some people will actually eat the stained, disgusting roach. This must be because they want that "extra bit" of oil, resin, or whatever is left on the paper. This situation can be compared to the patron of a good restaurant picking up his "as good as empty" plate and licking off the remaining morsels of food. Sure he got that little pool of gravy, but was it really worth it? 17. If you buy weed from a friend or a friend of a friend, it is polite to roll a joint, (a small one, if you wish) and smoke with the person who sells you the stuff. 18. It is very impolite to hand someone an empty bowl, without notifying that person of its possible cashed-ness. A proper warning would be 'Here ya go. I think it might be cashed. 19. The person who fills the bowl is given the opportunity to take the first hit. It doesn't matter whose weed it is. 20. Always remember to thank a person who has gotten you high. I know it sounds silly, but I know people who never say thanks and it gets a little annoying. 21. The person who brought the bud picks the music. 22. When using a bong, DON'T blow out the ashes, unless that's what the "homeowner" does. 23. NEVER go to someone's house EXPECTING him or her to catch you a buzz. Of course, there are exceptions to this rule... 24. If you spill the bong, clean it up! (And don't forget to put water back in!) 25. When the roach gets too small, if someone has a problem with it, it is common courtesy here to put the roach in a bowl and finish it that way. That way the people who don't mind burning their fingers don't get it all. 26. Thou shall not roll (terrible Jays)

I've missed a few days so I'll have a couple posts today to make up for it.

Today I had the first of several days I'll be spending in room 226 Goldthorpe. I know that sounds like I'm in some drug rehab building, but it's actually my Cultural studies of the 1980's class. "plot twist" ? Not sure if that actually worked there (Kanye shoulder shrug) It went like how most first days of class go. You show up and go over the syllabus. Yes, thee almighty syllabus the dread of every students first day of class. This syllabus was the same as any other. Outlining the percentages of each aspect of the class, and introducing the teachers, and their various accolades. The unique part of this class, was definitely Dominique my flagrantly homo sexual teacher. I find it amazing that 20 years ago (Roughly when I was born) it would have been preposterous for a homo sexual to be a teacher none the less an openly gay one, but since I've been in school I've had at least 4. I find this to be in every way absolutely awesome!!! There are few things in America that still encourage me to have faith in this country. The acceptance of marijuana and gay marriage and equality are a few of them. This is completely beside the fact that these few openly gay teachers I've had, have been some of my favorite teachers bar none. When I see other students who in some cases are against gay rights enjoying these teachers, it brings a smile to my face.The future of America (though financially terrible) is morally becoming a place I wouldn't mind living. So thank you Dominique for being a human, and thank you University of Dubuque for hiring a human being.

Nutmeg

There have been an ever increasing amount of times in my life where I step back and say "Man you're one weird kid" today was one of them. I woke up this morning once again with a terrible cold. I ate 2 oranges and had some oatmeal and green tea. I do this every time I get sick because I feel like upping how healthy I am really helps lesson how long and terrible the sickness lasts. Once my throat started feeling normal I then progressed to trying to enjoy my day. So immediately I wake up B and ask if he wants to smurkaburl. He then asks if we have any olive oil in the cupboard. I waltz up stairs and notice that we most definitely did not have any, so I walked back downstairs to report my findings. He was inquiring after the olive oil because there is an old hippy tradition that involves nutmeg extract and olive oil. If you mix these two together and rub it all over your torso you can become really stoned. So of course I was down. We walked to the store which was pretty funny because B isn't used to Iowa winters. So he was all bundled up as if he was going to trudge through the frozen tundras of Antarctica. We get to the store and end up buying all sorts of house cleaning stuff and olive oil. We get to the checkout and the lady totally gave me a free bag to put my stuff in. (This is only amazing to a college student who is familiar with "Savealot" convenience stores) We get home and B mixes the mixture onto a little plate. We then continued to rub it all over our own torsos and backs and arms. literally one of the grossest experiences ever. Then you have to leave it on for 30 mins. So we ventured downstairs again and listened to some Das Racist and enjoyed some incense and relaxation. I was dancing quite a bit because I very much so enjoy some Das racist. The waiting period was up and I went to take a shower to get the grossness off of me. I was so stoned I almost forgot how to take a shower. It was pretty ridiculous. After getting cleaned off I went back to my room and weather it was the Nutmeg or knock off brand NyQuil something was making me want to sleep. I poop you not it was one of the best naps I have ever taken in my life. I woke up stoned and ready to hang out, but it was 11 at night and M and B were not really down for doing to much. So we watched I love you man and smurkedanotherburl. It turns out I actually really love that movie. It was touching. I also love Jason Seagal so that always helps out my opinion of any movie in general. There wasn't really much substance in this little recap of my day, but man... I'm one weird kid.

"The days of getting drunk and high and making beautiful music in the night should never have to end."

Sometimes in life you should reminisce. I'm doing that in a way every time I write in this blog.


The street light was casting a pleasant orange light atop the bus stop I was sitting at. The glass walls encompassing my place of rest are like a shield keeping me from dark outside of them. The inside was homely you could almost imagine a little fire kindling on the concrete ground. Sparks popping about like kettle corn in every which direction. One landing on my shoe and me shaking it as if it was going to burn a hole into the leather. looking out of the glass house I noticed it looks as if it is a different world outside. like I'm watching a faint glimmer of the real world as I take refuge in my glass castle, but pay no mind to me. For what do the detailed ramblings of a homeless man really mean?

Mile

"Hey bruh, wanna just loop around and go up around thata way?" "There's no sidewalk over there..." "yeah, but there is a street" 

Today I ran with P, we haven't really gotten to run together very often as of late, mostly cause I've been on an incredible escapade the last month and a half. Which is a blessing and a curse. I'm out of shape quite frankly. Which isnt a feeling I'm not used to. I seem to fall in an out of shape on the flip of a dime. I went to practice today utterly beat up from the last two days of working out. Coach Goon told us to go on a 25 minute run and then meet at the track to run 4 400's. The warm up was pretty icy, and we had to go on the HGWY for a large part of it. It was kinda frightening to be completely honest. Two semis got a little to close for comfort, I could feel the air rush passed me, and it made my heart beat as if it was going to take two of my ribs and play los brujos de cisano on my chest. When we did finish and got back to the track, I donned the Texas shorts to show the boys what was up. I literally have never had a workout go that well. I beat the pants off of them every interval. Even coach J was impressed with our effort. On the last interval I took off and this guy didnt look before he ran on the track, I had to truck him a little and I may have said "cheese and crackers" if you know what I mean. One of my biggest pet peeves is track etiquette. I'm not going to go into the rules of track etiquette here, but just know that it is a thing. After I finished I was over joyed with my performance. I'm not trying to brag and seem pompous, so I will also include that most of those guys would absolutely poop on me in any interval that was 1000 meters plus any given day of the week, but 400 and 800 meter intervals are most definitely where I make my bed. That's all today just a little update on how the run went. Bake it cheezy.

"When I was young, I was scared of the dark, and rightfully so. When I became a man I laid my bed in the dark and saw it as a blessing that the dark existed, and rightfully so."

When I go on a walk I don't go hoping to find some incredible revelation. If I were to go about it that way, I would have to walk miles on end looking for something that might never come, if it even exists at all. No, when I venture out of my door (generally with a cigarette in hand) I go looking for peace. Peace isn't found in your house. You argue, fuss, complain, clean, leave for work, watch television, eat food, and piss in your house. You can find fragments of peace, but peace dwells in the outdoors. Where you see the glistening of water that reminds you of a mirror when it is calm. Where trees can look like glorious spider webs spread across a canvas so vast that it looks as if it never ends or like an ominous cage keeping you from seeing the freedom that is the sky. Where the earth beneath your feet is so soft that you want to make your bed there and lay your head on a tuft of grass that has survived the heat of summer and soaked in the gift of rain for months on end. Where snow can bring you back to memories of reading C.S. Lewis or discourage you from venturing out your door without the hopes of enjoying a steaming mug of hot cocoa on your way back in. Where mere words cant describe every nook and cranny. That is where peace is, and that's why I venture out of my door. Because without peace, what is your life but a string of chaotic events?