Sometimes when I get high I imagine being like that forever, and I imagine that's what Hell is like. Not in a way that freaks me out or anything, in a way that's very matter of fact. When I was at K-----'s sister's boyfriend's Halloween party, I showed up high out of my mind and kept sipping on some variation of jungle juice. I was incapacitated, begging G---'s girlfriend to get me another slice of pizza and yelling out "WHITE PEOPLE BE LIKE NOW LETS DO A SILLY ONE" whenever someone said the word "picture". It was almost out of body. I was stuck to my chair. I barely remember it. It was raining outside so we sat in the garage and they shut the big door. There was a hanging light in the corner of the tiny garage that made the whole room seem orange. The windows on the door were dark; their house was in the middle of the woods. Their friends were playing cup pong on the table next to where I was sat. I was looking around the room and imagining that there was no outside world. That nothing existed except this room. I imagined that it was very similar to what Hell would feel like. It wasn't an unpleasant experience at all. I was having fun. But I just kept thinking "if this were to be forever it would be Hell, good thing it will be over soon." I swear I was having fun. There was just something about being so disoriented, filled with a mixture of pizza and some sort of cake that you just kept eating and eating, the dull orange of the room, the sound of rain hitting the door, people you don't know drunkenly playing beer pong next to you, your friends asking you how your first sexual encounter went, wearing a ton of makeup and your boobs being a little too exposed, all trapped inside this room that couldn't be bigger than my bedroom. I was having fun, I promise, but this could easily be mistaken for Hell.
This idea of "if this lasted forever it would be Hell" was an idea that followed me often after that. Walking in the pouring rain through a giant parking lot that was filled with muddy grass, not quite knowing where the car is. Drinking in a room full of drunk girls who obviously prefer your friends over you, and craving the cigarette in your pocket. Things that were fine in the moment, but would be Hell if it was forever. I suppose you could say this about anything, any action would feel like Hell if it were to last an eternity, but this feeling comes on for things that are very particular.
I was feeling the opposite of this tonight. Sitting on the couch with my friends, watching childhood YouTube videos and discussion gossip we were not involved in. I believe if that went on forever it would feel like Heaven. That feeling doesn't occur as often as the Hell one, but I think it just makes it so much sweeter.
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In the car the other day, I was showing K----- a text that L---- had sent me and he asked "why is there an orange emoji next to his name?" I was a little high and slightly embarrassed to be put on the spot in this car full of people so I said, "oh its just kind of cringe" but he would not take that for an answer, so he poked and prodded until I just told him. It's because I think of oranges as one of the best physical forms of love. They're easy to share. There's a million poems about love and oranges. When L---- was here I'd always split an orange with him and say "I love you. I'm glad we exist"* when I did. I don't know why I was so embarrassed by this, and I was even more embarrassed that I had put up a fight to tell him. K---- did his whole routine of saying, "me when I love my boyfriend and so its cringe. Can't you be sentimental" This caused me to think of the way I'm perceived. You swear up and down I'm the most sentimental person ever and I'm full of love, but sometimes I doubt that in myself. Maybe I don't love as much as I think I do. If I don't love, who am I?
*At lunchtime I bought a huge orange—
The size of it made us all laugh.
I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave—
They got quarters and I had a half.And that orange, it made me so happy,
As ordinary things often do
Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.
This is peace and contentment. It's new.The rest of the day was quite easy.
I did all the jobs on my list
And enjoyed them and had some time over.
I love you. I'm glad I exist.— Wendy Cope
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Sometimes I feel a little odd changing in my dorm room. I try to get dressed as fast as possible. I usually lounge around the house in boxers and a big t shirt so it's usually a quick change. I feel the eyes of my posters, but especially my framed picture of Jesus. I am not so religious anymore. My friends often mock me for that stint of Christianity I felt. They aren't the biggest fans of organized religions. I know that you can not relate to this. They often critique it in ways I wish I could understand. What do you mean you don't understand faith and the desire for community? That's all I could ever ask for.
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I've been skipping more than I should. It's too easy to skip, I'll just get an A anyway. When I'm editing for Mr. Beast I'm sure he's not going to check my attendance for Motion Media my sophomore year of college.
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Sorry I've been so weird. I actually don't know what's wrong with me. I wish I did, at least it would be easier to fix. Sometimes I think I'm just jealous. I just keep getting this urge to stop talking to everyone, including you. I'm trying to keep chugging along though. I'm sorry for being annoying along the way.
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What else can I say. Hmmmmm. My dreams have been weird. And sexual, but not in a fun way. In a disturbing and off putting way. My relationship with gooning is weird again. I need to quit porn. It's messing with my mind in the unconscious state. And the conscious one too if we're being honest. Not in a weird way. I need to go back to my anti gooning stance and start listening to weird erotic audios because they "don't count as porn" and turn them off when they have weird accents or sound like someone I know, then give up on gooning all together and seek dopamine somewhere else like Tik Tok or your dms. That's a joke. Anyway.
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I'm wishing the best for you. I love you. I hope and pray you still love me. Dream about me.
And we went all the way up to the small town where
I'm from with foggy air and the wind and the mountain
top and we clung to rocks and looked off and you
held my hand. You almost got to start feeling me.
I finally felt like I was breathing free. Under swaying
trees we fell asleep and we had the same dream, the stars were bright, we dream the same every night.
On my island home I spent some time with you.
I went back and felt alone there.
I went back there by myself.
I gave up on everything that we'd felt.