Another day, another way — to put off the end. I seem to have discovered how little I actually need to smoke meth all day to be happy and content here on the farm. I have yet to find out if I need it all all, which may be an answer in itself.
My brain and I have worked out somewhat of a system. If I can find the teeniest amount to create a few clouds as I wake, I can save some even teenier amount for the next morning. So far that has worked.
At first I was re-dosing in the afternoon too, but as the Tina got teenier, I settled for a few clouds at 7am and made it through the next 24 hours without even thinking about it… Much.
I weaned off teeny Tina hits… And chocolate. Less Tina and a doubling of chocolate. Trading addictions is common. In any case, I hope to resolve it today with a trip into town. The Saturday farmers market will provide cover should the meet take longer than my typical Walmart shop.
I know I’ll probably be spun and awake all night since I won’t be using the word teeny to describe day 1 dosage levels, but it’s a shame. It would be nice to live on low dosage morning clouds for a while. It’s a silly idea to do more when it seems clear the difference is almost unnoticeable to me.
If I can be the same level of content on the minute quantity that satisfied me two minutes ago, I could make it last four months.
Drugs don’t work that way. It’s more like money. Things expand to take up the space you have. You spend money when you have itm you smoke more when you have it. Maybe it’s me, and not the drug. I am not a goldfish.
I look at my bed and see I have four rows of four remaining chocolate. It’s 7:30 and I have my morning scroll to read. I’ll voluntarily stop eating for now.
Maybe.
That’s the evil word. I’m never absolute.
