Also yesterday I got a sudden yen for a boba (no coincidence) and up and headed off to the bubble tea shop. On the way I saw lotsa people on the streets in clusters, looking happy, and "of course," I thought, "it's that first warm day", though there did seem to be a lot of them, maybe there was a college sporting event of some sort, though they weren't dressed like that. "Hey, that's reefer I smell through my open car windows. How spring-like." Then I saw the sign outside the landmark liquor store greeting the revellers, and had to laugh at myself that I hadn't realized these were celebraters from Hash Bash.
I drove along among them, and after several blocks of slowly breathing the waftings of their now-less-illegal doobies, I wondered whether I had a contact high of the classic sort. I skipped trying to get my bubble tea, and headed for the hardware store I buy leaf bags at. Walking in from the car I was flying like an airplane, but I do that not infrequently, when definitely not high. Of course I also might've looked like I came from Hash Bash, as I wandered among the colorful housewears for fun, cuz I was wearing my Dr. Seuss one-fish-two-fish shirt (a poetry thing for me but a stoner thing for some), which t'boot looked like I'd done a very high person's half-assed tie-dying of it, on accounta it was in the dryer recently when a blue pen I'd missed burst in there, and the shirt was one of the items the ink got to, in splotchy bits here and there. Then I got gas and a new gas-station-machine milkshake in "cake batter" flavor, at a Speedway where some customers did seem to be Hash Bashers on their way back outta town. And then I drove through the car wash for the sensory experience of it.
However much I'd inhaled, it occured to me that I really don't need to be high any more to act like and even feel like my favorite parts of being high. Not that I get that experience very much. But I do get it sometimes.
Curiosity; courage; therapy; recovery; art; grace. :)
