MEMOIR
Marijuana and Me
The conflicting role of weed in my life
I discovered marijuana for the first time in the summer after seventh grade, and from the very start, it was something I enjoyed. I hadn’t realized it yet, but I’m cursed with an addictive personality. Maybe I should have pieced it together from how I devoured candy, cartoons, and video games, but alas. Though I didn’t fall headfirst into addiction, I knew shortly after that first inhale of those skunk-flavored fumes that I wanted to do it again.
Those first experiences were almost akin to mushroom or LSD trips, though it would be years until I would grow to understand that. It was unclear whether the intensity was due to how much more potent the weed has gotten since our parents first encountered it or simply because of how young we were when my friends and I discovered it. But in those days, just a few hits would cause colors and sensations to intensify. Listening to music was euphoric, encountering police cars petrifying, and conversing with our parents while high, a colossal and often fruitless endeavor.
With red eyes, stupefied stares, and reeking hoodies, it’s a wonder we could fool anyone at all in those early delinquent days. My friends and I would spend significant portions of our weekends smoking, and when Monday would roll around, we’d begin planning…
