When you make up a word, you get to decide how to spell, pronounce, and use it.

When I first opened up my browser to write, I entered the title; Orange Tuesday, with intent to do a news style review of my recent stories. The browser was acting slow, and Chrome wouldn’t even load. It was my Chinese tablet and I’m amazed at how well it’s served me, but it’s getting worse and both my Android devices have filled themselves up.

I need to investigate. I might.

I haven’t so far.

Next I loaded up the cheap Windows 10 tablet I paid 295 for. Since computer prices change so much, that number may be  useless or even confusing to you, if high end laptops are now less than 295 at retail, or perhaps even a thing of memory, like the DVD.  Daddy, what’s a laptop?

It was a computer so big you could hardly fit it in your briefcase.

wow. I can’t image a computer bigger than 7 inches… hehehe

I can’t predict what will come, ecept the time I predicted exactly what would come. I have a feeling I nailed it almost exactly. I suppose that means I’ll steer off the main story, to tell this. Is it a brag?

Fuck you I say to that part of my brain. The mere introduction that a story is a brag, crushes my joy. Telling that story now will cause anxiety so I stop, and loop back to the title.

I hurt.

I smoke dabs with a new pipe, recently cleaned although it seems to go from clean to it’s plataue of yuck quickly. I doubt that has a noticable effect. The hurt is from smoking.

Dabs are probably like the harshest cigareetes ever were, x 10.

The people of science, under contract to the people of profit, told us for decades that smoking was not bad for you. A great many people believed it, but a few somewhere discovered the truth at some point. The dumbest thing on earth you can do, is breath smoke.

There is nothing dumber. Even if it didn’t occur to anyone at the start, surely the very first otopsy after smoking was introduced as a medically benificial herbal blend.

Tobacco was the wonder — stick, not drug. Cigars were status symbols of the especially arrogant.

For the first 2/3 of the life of cigarettes in my nation, nobody talked about the smell, or personal space. In the begininging, nobody was complaining, because they were smokers too. Smoking became the norm so much, the minority of those who didn’t, stayed quite.

Until they didn’t.

A lot of people began to protest at least a little. Excuse me, would you mind smoking outside the party? Non smoking sections appeared.

And increased.

It is certainly concievable that our new obcession with weed is going to change a lot of things, but I have no illusions that we’ll get some time to get hooked, and then find out my lounges are just as ugly as theirs. My soke may not have tar and nicotine, but I have no idea what dabs do have. They’re the secret recipie of weed.

Who knows what goes into it fpr flavour and marketing.

Tonight, a few tokes hurt my throat. I’m not as healthy as I was last week.

I went to see my doctor today.

It was ok. I wasn’t totally honest but I was reasonably honest. I didn’t lie, except to not fully explain my usage levels. I did however talk about the daily 200mg focus powder. 

The scary bit was high bood pressure. Very high. I don’t know the numbers but I do know at least one of them should have been two digits.

I guess I’ve been feeling that, if not outright causing it. I should have told her about my 90% sugar, 5% protien, 5% fruits and veg.

The numbers may not be far from the truth. I made them up, but my diet is very close to 90% sugar. Not really even in tyhings. Just sugar food. Hershey’s Kisses, Shortbread cookies with chocolate stripes, the Tootsie Roll chewies, of which I will now eat the last in view one.

It is lemon but there is one more in the bowl.

OIt’s 5:01am on a Wednesday… or still my Tuesday. I didn’t expect this,but it’s been an interesting eduction by side effect.

Everybody has an image of how big a line they might snort. Ok, obviously not everybody but movies have shown us, and YouTube has lots. What if I told you a line of coke is actually a quarter of the size you normally line up. Teeny. The size between a small dose and a bigger does is actually all in your head, and not actually any stronger. A tiny amount of coke snorted, goes up into the brain and the effect maxes out instantly. 

Excess just splashes already activated cells.

Even with this knowledge, people continue to make fat lines.

I made that all up.

My heart is no longer reacting. Whatever that feeling was on the left side was, I won’t know. I’ll belch a bit from the fruit chew… and try rest again. I was surprised it didn’t come this evening. I did such a small line of the stuff.


The story I made up might in fact be true with the meth. It seems a tiny bit does as good if not better a job at motivation and focus than the larger lines, but the larger lines approach a different feeling, which I suppose is my personal version of the meth euphoria that I was denying. I still believe I don’t get as trippy as others, but I can not continue to say it isn’t a high. I’ve loved everything and been confident and written at the speed of my fingers on it.

I’m happy to be on a lower maitenance level.

5:10. Goodnight Irene.

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