“B Is for Bad Poetry” by Pamela August Russell.
(Source: zombiebondage, via imanassspankme)
This is NOT all in my head. It’s in yours, and that is the problem.
Answer:
Marijuana is a beautiful thing, friend.
You know that feeling when you’ve been out all day, doing shit you don’t really care to be doing, and you get home and you’re exhausted, hungry, thirsty, your jeans are wet and your feet, ears, and hands are numb, and you reeeeeaaaally have to pee? So, you run to the bathroom and the joints in your fingers hurt as you try to undo your pants, but you make it to the seat and it is literally the. best. thing ever.
Then, you get out of your clothes and into your favorite pair of IZOD pajama pants, a comfy t-shirt (covered by a really warm sweater), and some soft, fuzzy slippers and head into the kitchen to check out the eats.
Here’s where things get wonderful, because that thing you’ve been craving all day is sitting right in front of you. Next, before whipping up your meal, thank your past self for going grocery shopping so that future you could have this moment of glory.
Last… You sit down with your food and turn on the TV to see your favorite holiday movie playing. So you settle in under a warm blanket, with the heat just right, eating the best meal you will one day swear was the best you’ve ever had, and watch the one movie that always comforts your chilly heart until you fall asleep (which is when you dream about that sexy black guy in the Old Spice commercials riding you on a horse).
What I’m basically saying that smoking marijuana makes things feel lighter, happier, clearer. It makes me feel like I can handle what may come my way and things will actually be all right.
#marijuana #smoking #personal #ask #weed #pot #life #great #love
This connection is deeper than anything I could’ve ever imagined.
Sure, having common interests is great.
But the fact that I can talk to you about any and everything is so mind-blowing and incredible.
No judgment.
No criticism.
No bias.
Just acceptance.
And that’s a beautiful thing.
(Source: reticent-romantic, via thesavvyscribe)
Sparkin’ it up with my dearest on a dreary day in Tacoma.
That Moment when you walk into the room after a shower, and it smells like her.
My boyfriend is so in love with me. How did I get so lucky.
