Personal

The current battle I have within my head every time I smoke even a teeny tiny bit of weed, is whether to come clean, and admit it. To confess to using drugs, or at least enjoying an occasional inspiration puff.…

The current battle I have within my head every time I smoke even a teeny tiny bit of weed, is whether to come clean, and admit it. To confess to using drugs, or at least enjoying an occasional inspiration puff. I have a vaporizer, and now and then, I inhale a breath or two. Less than a pet’s worth, and then I sit down and write.

Some of my writings make their way to my blog, but most never do. I hold out hope that one day they may be discovered when I’m dead, and people will learn how fascinating I was, in my head.

I am one of those stealth crazies. My mental illness resides more in my own imagination than the world. The person I play in public is actually a pretty cool guy. I like his character, and it seems, others do to. he is witty, and smart and truly listens to you, with a singer want to understand. he seldom gets angry, and in fact, runs from anger and most loud noises.

Sadly he is a personality I can only turn on in the presence of others.  He goes away when you turn away, and I am left with the other Jeff personality. He doesn’t have a separate name like split personalities are portrayed on the television, but to me, that version of me is clearly a different person. The two of us, within myself debate the important decisons.  Like the white and red characters that are often seen hovering in each ear above our shoulders in countless stories.  My positive side and my negative side battle it out all the time.

I envy the public face Jeff, or what I call the NOW.  I’m stuck residing most of my life in the OTHER side. The before and after Jeff.  The one that obsesses in advance, and in retrospect. NOW Jeff has no fear, most of the time… but he can often hear the inside Jeff shouting negative thoughts.  Working the devils advocate with a skill that comes with practice. My inner mind knows just how to hit me, and in turn, I end up saying No in the NOW.  NOW Jeff can’t spend hours figuring out the scenarios when asked for a choice. NOW Jeff has to choose, so he chooses NO. It;s almost always the easiest and fast scenario to imagine.  No means not risking the future to be bad. It’s terror of failure, and letting people down. The future could always be worse than the NOW.  I’m happy in the NOW, and change can break that.  My PST has sadness and stress, and my NOW has a comfort position. Nothing is too terrible in my NOW.  Why would I want to risk that.

When I scenario the future, my brain has far more experience with negative outcomes. I predict failure, because I know how that works.  I can come up with dozens of ways to fail at things. I’d almost say I’m good at it, but of course, the reality isn’t as bad as my perception.  I’m writing this in the NOT NOW mode.  I know I’m actually pretty cool, but this is the version of me that has memories, and uses them to remember when NOW ME was awkward, and fails.  I’m not really good at a lot of things, but I am good at not trying those things, so I am pretty good at the things I do.

My point in this writing, is that I am tortured secretly. I want to be a success and strive for more than my NOW contentment, which – realisltically, I know will end soon, even if just because of money.

I want my future to be BETTER than NOW, and it’s time to take some risk.  For me, part of that is explaining the drugs. They turn me into a third personality. The happy Jeff. On a teeny bit of weed, I love to think. Ideas flow to me, and pride gushes in, because in this personality, I don’t listen to red Jeff. White Jeff is high.

I have created business ideas, and web sites, and fiction, and philosophy all under the influence than less than a single joint toke. I love my ideas.  If I wasn;t shamed about the inspiration, I’d be a different person for sure, or at least Stoned Jeff thinks so.

At this moment, the main problem I have – the inner battle I provided in the first paragraph, is that both white NOW Jeff and Red Negative Jeff both don’t really talk to Stoned Jeff.  Stoned Jeff writes, and writes, and this past yar, started making long night long stoner viols into the web cam. Neither of my other two personalities ever look at them. Stoned Jeff comes P with the ideas, but can’t communicate them to NOW Jeff, who might actually act on some of them, if he can duck Negative Jeff who’ll convince all three of us that it was a stupid stoner idea and not worth a second look.

If we don’t open the box of stories, then we can hold on to pride that they’re all genius million dollar life changing ideas, and not be crushed by the assumed reality of negativity that makes us realize, they really are just stupid stoner ideas, as worthless as any other stoner ideas.

The truth is, both red and white Jeff’s are ashamed of stoner Jeff.  I convince myself the Future Jeff has a worse life, if people know he smokes pot. It is a reputation that may not be easy to recover from. Although my parents being dead Lessens the stress, I still have two sisters and (in my head) I am still my mother’s perfect boy to them.

I can’t bring myself to admit I’m a weed smoker, and break my imaginary perfection persona.  Now Jeff doesn’t do drugs.

Thus- the battle. When I get high, I want to scream it from the mountains. I want to reach out to all those kids and adults just Kline me, who get high now and then, and they become creative, msuically, artisticlly, scientifically, or whatever. It’s no secret that many of history’s greatest minds, we’re Stoned most of the time.

Or drunk.. which for some reason is more socially acceptable – still.  Even if Canada were to legalize it like several US states have, the die-hard conseravtives, or anyone over 40 (in my head) are still set with a mindset from when it was bad. You don’t get some people to stop saying nigger, even in today’s world, and you don’t stop some people from believing drugs are bad. Period.

This belief may be one that is gaining acceptance, like gay marriage or others, but we’re still fighting for equal rights for blacks and women. Society changes fast, nut minds don’t.

Change of minds is the slowest change of all.

In truth, I don’t really hide it personally.  It never appears boldly ion my Facebook page where the people I don’t want to let down reside, but in person, I often make jokes and references. Even if it’s not talked about consitently, most of my close circle knows I smoke weed. Many know more.

deeper then, we discover this whole choice is a red herring. I’m not scared of people knowing I get high. In fact, I’m counting on the stoner community as a resource and demographic. here is not enough weed humour and community, for this changing world.  Stoner share. They’re a great market.

So the truth is something else. Making drugs the point of argument was a misdirect, even from me. I realize it as I type, using this blog as a therapist, free.

What I am actually terrified of, is fame.  Fame without success can be a tragedy.  NOW Jeff is good, but he is still weak inside, and before and after Jeff has to deal with the world. In my universe, I control who I interact with.  I click or clash with everyone on an individual basis.  While I am capable of being comfortable with almost any personality, as soon as NOW Jeff walks away, it’s up to negative Jeff to head the briefing.

So I say no.

I am terrified of becoming famous, even if I am a success.  On one hand, I care recognition and acceptance and praise.  A smile literally changes me in a way I wish I could express in words. I feel smiles, and ones I’ve earned power up x 10. Equally, a frown can pierce me like a pin pops a ballon, and leave me over thinking for housr- or days.  Or in some situations, wounds of the mind that change me forever.

I have seen Mean Tweets by Celebrities on July Kimmel. I have blogger how the Internet has created a whole new world of bullies, while the real world simultaneously tries to  battle the bullies of your school or work. The truth is bullies will always exist, because they’re everywhere, including all TV, media and stories. Strong people feel superior over others, and that comes out as bullying. You just don’t notice it from that side of the line.

We are a mean race, for greed or power, or more often than not, a laugh.

I have never liked it.  The only thing that unsure me more than letting somebody down, is being told I let somebody down. Seeing it.  Feeling it.  Frowns are bad enough, or tears – but the verbal and textual abuse flung at anyone who even accidentally acquires some attention – makes me run away.

People are mean, but secret people are really evil.  If mommy won;’ find out, or if we don’t have a m,or my to impress, and we no longer believe Santa or Jesus can tell when we’re good and when we’re bad, many of us seem to choose bad.  Mean.

We’re shown examples to learn from everywhere. Stand up monolgies every night at 11:35 and 12:30 and even some at 1:30 on all networks.

I want people to only like me, or be respectful in your oposition. I don’t want them to say my elbows are funny and I should kill myself… and the fear is rational, because I can find similar examples for every celebrity out there, either Hollywood created, YouTube sensation of just the lady who fell in a d fountain while texting.

She was famous for a day, and people were so mean, they even mocked her at 11:35 on Jimmy Kimmel’ show. The woman who fell down into a hole behind a counter was ridiculed one season so oftem, over and over, that they even flew her in and gave her a trophy at the end of the year.

I call that a bully.

Hashtag YouTube Wedgie.

I don’t trust that the box of stories is as good as my imagination. I don;’ want to come out and sing, if I think I might forget the words. Maybe I’m William Hung. Only impressive in my head, and like the empower of American Idol, nobody told him he was naked.

I want somebody else, or a few people to assure me, and I want that with trust, but the red Jeff will be screaming in my ear the whole time. You’re not that impressive.

You can’t trust the opinion of friends. William Hung presumably had friends. They let him burn with false hope.  They’re friends. Don’t ask them to tell the truth. Friends are there for comfort.

I can debate both sides with conviction. That’s kind of what indecision is all about.

My point is, I justify the win for the side of the Red peronality downer.

I’m proud of NOW Jeff, but I’m not so proud of BEFIORE AND After Red JEFF, so risk topples the balance in negatives favour.

I say No.
I believe no is the right answer.
I say no.
I don’t really believe it, but like pleasing your date by doing things you don’t always believe in, a happier negative me, is a happier overall me.  I give in.

I say No.

This writing was spontanious, and you’re reading the first daft, typed with autocorrect in Android and not proof read. I wrote is as my third personality, as I do with 95% of my writings.

I wish I had the nerve, or the means to convince tomorrow Jeff that it is worth reading, maybe an edit and a post. My coming out – as it were – as a druggie to all, and allowing 200% more content on my blog, if writing is guilt-free.

It won;’ happen.  Perhaps, just maybe I will share it with just you… and see if you can talk to tomorrow Jeff, and convince him.  You’re a friend that isn;’ telling lies.  I am good. My writing is good. There is a way.

Success can happen, just by not reading thebtweets.

Could it be?

I say no.

End of Part 1. March 23rd, 2015 9:17pm – on a Monday.
Jeff Goebel
– maybe great