Marijuana addict?

So tell me how marijuana isn’t “addicting”,? How every night I want to smoke an L to the face and just forget about my day. How stressful it feels to be running low on your stash and you don’t know when you’ll get the money to buy more. When it’s so easy to get, so easy to smoke and so relaxing to just feel high. And no, its not like some wonderful mood changer but more so of a distraction. I know for a fact how distracting it can be. How lazy it can make you and how stuck it might make you feel. But you don’t care, because you just wanna meet up with whoever has some and smoke it with them. Or you’ll just smoke it alone in your bedroom, trying to keep the pungent smell from seeping into the halls where your family might figure out what you’re doing. But somehow they don’t notice. So you keep packing the bowl. Or the bong. Or the homemade one hitter you McGyvered together because all your pieces are somewhere else. An even bigger conflict is with your friends. You got the friends you knew, maybe in high school, who didn’t fall deep into the drug scene. And there they are; graduating college and getting real jobs and becoming full fledged adults. But these newly labels adults have circumstances that are more fortunate than yours that have set them up to both work hard and well but to also afford better opportunities than some. So you don’t call them your friends anymore, because marijuana becomes your ‘best friend’. And you know it like the back of your hand. And you don’t have to worry about feeling behind or less capable than your diploma wielding friend whose freshly armored with a list of internships and references that would make anyone jealous. But maybe jealous isn’t the right word. Because if I was truly jealous, I would be trying to get what they already have. But a lot of what those kind of people have were already given. Where with people like me, sometimes we have to take it for ourselves. We have to work harder because our circumstances prevent us from being as productive as we would like. And yes, everyone’s circumstances are different; and I’m not saying that any body whose has struggled just to get by, turn to drugs. What I think I am trying to really say is, there are people out here, good smart genuine lovely people who let life get to them. I am one of these people that have been worn down. That has questioned every decision and every lack of decision, analyzed my choices and what I could have done differently. Thoughts like these swirl in my brain for as long as I let them. I get discouraged and scared and I wonder if I never smoked, or if I never became friends with this person or that person that I’d be a lot farther in life. Maybe if I just did one thing differently, I could be something so much more. But as everyone likes to tell me, I can’t dwell in the past because it is simply just the past. But back to what I was saying. Marijuana is still dancing around me within my present. My work friends can enjoy a smoke without the anxiety of their wallet looking emptier and emptier. They can enjoy it without really needing it. I wish I could be like this. I wish marijuana wasn’t viewed as innocently as it is. I am all about marijuana laws passing but I’m also aware of my issues with self control. And of my circumstances that try to hint that putting weed on the back burner would help. I’m soon to be 23 years old, living barely pay check to pay check. I still live at home. I’m a college drop out with poor grades and no car to even drive. I work at a fast paced restaurant that lately takes a tole on me. I work to get by, to get the money I barely make. Will I stop smoking anytime soon? I want to say, yes, I hope so. But, I don’t know how strong I am…I don’t know if one day I’ll wake up with a different feeling. But how can anyone tell me marijuana isn’t addicting when for the past 4 or 5 years its been the only thing that I stayed faithful to. I’ll write more about this later.. – Quinn Rodriguez



Oh my heart

so clumsy & fractured

blind as a bat.

An open wound.

A skinless creature.

So soft.

So gone with the wind.

So lost within this constellation

that I have yet to clearly see.

I feel bruised. I feel blue.

Oh my heart,

protect me soon.


And just as it ends…

I guess something new will begin? Remembering all those years. All that time spent wasted. How utterly heartbreaking. How alone do I feel right now? Pretty alone. I took this friendship seriously. I took your well being seriously. I’m sorry you can’t do the same. I’m sorry that you feel that I hurt you but to be honest it felt like you took a wrecking ball to my chest time and time again. You wore me the fuck out. All those wasted words. All those wasted I love you’s. All those wasted moments where I chose you over others. Over myself. Fuck your words and your heart that doesn’t know how to work at its best. I was tired of you breaking mine. You’ve walked away so easily. With the last word. You walked away with the weight of your actions, you walked away from the one person that actually tried to be your best friend. From day 1. You don’t have this heart in your hands anymore. You’ve lost. I’ve won. Thank you for opening up a space in my universe. Now I think I can let some light in. I’m ready for a sunrise. I’m ready for something new. Something better.