I noticed a difference in the way I think about my universe within about 8 minutes from my first toke. If I was watching TV at the start, then I usually start to think about the show on multiple levels. I think about the writers, and their decsions. I think about what meetings might have taken place over certain ideas or scenes. I ponder whether the big tabacoo is behind the huge increase of cigarette smoking in Saturday Night Live.

I have said I watch TV with the DVD comentary on, except all those voices and opinions are in my head. I quickly change the way I think, to allow multiple thoughts and scenarios about the life in front of me.

It makes me smile. I get to enjoy a show, and a distraction in one sigle view.

Before long, the new ideas popping iff excitement and pleasure in my head becomes too much. My new ideas are so amazing, I can’t let them go. I have to share them, but alas- I exist alone, except with effort.

I get high alone, but it makes me wite. By that, I mean my complulsion to not forget such great ideas, I feel the need to share, and teh easiest medium, is to share to a journal, and then decide if I still want to share it tomorrow, when the not high mind returns to my afraid, shy, not quite as confident as I’m pretending to be me.

The problem is, that version of me and tonight’s version of me don’t really communicate. We are almost different personalities – but that thought is too complex and scary tonworrry about tonight. I do not think I have that problem at this time, although I recentlky did just give myself two names. One for stoned me, and one for siber me. It was just easier, and I believe the stoned version of me may actually be more productive than the morning me.

Orange Jeff, as I am known in the high state, gets ideas that excite me, and writes them down with optomism. They are all wonderful perfect ideas, many of which could be turned into a company and profit with just a little bit of effort. I am a master at coming up with ideas… or so I claim.

The secret to this confidence is easy. Weed. I have the potential to have these ideas when I’m not high – but during those hours, the negative voice in my brain vrushes the hope right away, before I can write them down or speak them alowed. I may come up with an idea for a business, but the Jeff that lives in reality, unfiltered by the euphoria of the weed, but the negative thoughts assure me it is either too silly, or too hard, or in some cases… We agree it is a good idea, but in my head… I run away. If I try, and get my hopes up, I will fail anyway. It’s what I do.

I have convinced myself of my own elaborate persona, and that I am a support brain, made happy by completing tasks rewarded by smiles… but only really easy tasks I can start and finish in one sitting, because a distraction of just about any kind, including a fly in the room, may change my focus to a new thought, and more often than not, it is nearly impossible to renew my excietment in the first thing… sometimes for days and sometimes for weeks.

If I have no excitement on a task, and I can’t somehow make it into a game, then it is difficult for me to maintain focus. Whether this is true or not, it is the story I have chosen to give the power of belief to, so it becomes the truth.

“A Good story, can replace reality”

I fight with my social worker counceller, as she continues to ask; “What makes me happy”, and I feel like Spock felt when his computer competency hearing asked him how he felt. I answer I am happiest when I am making others happy. I gain my happiness and confidence from the smiles, approval and praise of those standing in front of me.

I am told this is not a valid answer. I do not accept that, and I point to the dog in a picture on his wall. I suspect your dog and I agree. There is nothingwrong with striving to be the best person you can be, to help the most people you can.

My life has been in service of helping people understand and enjoy technology. It has been a pleasure to be good at it. I have modeled my life after being likeable, and completly ignored, until needed. I am a generic personality, which only turns on when interactive, or given a task.

I am happiest with a win, and a task completed that generates a smile. Sometimes, but not always, some compensation. The smile means mlore to me, emotionally.

We see so many examples in nature of species having a support instinct. Animals that live to serve a queen, or work in groups with obvious leaders. It is logical to assume, a part of the human component of variety, is that some brains are born to different roles.

I think I went off my main topic.  I tend to do that, and I blame — no. I attribute that to the universe I create when I toke. It is not a pocket universe, as I remember that term is real, but it is certainly a separate universe created for the duration of the trip. In the Douglas Adams universe, he exited out the window instead of tehe door to his alternate universe.

In this universe, I am perfection. My netagive voice is silenced for now, and so everything I think and write is great, intellegent and wil absolutly work, if I could only convince sober Jeff to read it tomorrow.

That is why this bllog is seldom proof read. Sober Jeff ignores me.

He knows (and so do I deep down) that perfection vanishes the moment anyone else enters.





This is the point where I have lost my interest, and finshing becomes hard.  For many, that would mean another toke, but each new puff creates a new universe, and I still…

Nevermind.  It was fun to write tonight,  I actually paused right in the middle of the TV show LUCIFER, which irinicaly I watched tonight directly after SUPERNATURAL, which was also staring Lucifer, only played by Rick Springfield. Two diferent varients on the same character.  I wonder if I should be worried Lucifer is a huge sucess on TV at this time.

I think I’ll go back to it.  Can’t leave old Lucy waiting.


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