A post about grass

Monday 21 August (2006)

 some people like to smoke a spliff before bed

I guess it’s safe to say that the most common recreational illegal drug in use in the world today is grass – cannabis, marijuana, sweet mary jane. But, with my propensity for consuming psychoactive substances of almost any variety in study of the psychedelic realms, it might come as a slight surprise to you that I don’t really smoke a lot of grass. In fact, I hardly ever do – sure, if I’m at a party and a joint is going round I’ll not turn it down, and when I lived in Manchester I got high more than once with my friends, but I’ve never really yearned for it or anything. This is the real ‘I’m not into grass’ clincher for me though; I’ve never actually paid for any.

The thing is, grass makes you high, and in my experience it is a fun but ultimately pointless high. It has made me laugh uncontrollably at things which really aren’t that funny, and that is basically it. It’s a mellow trip – you don’t need to set aside two days before you consume it, and there’s generally no hangover. It’s just that, well – I don’t see the point. As I’ve said if someone offers me some, I’ll probably not turn it down, but being as it’s illegal (and thus blackmarket and without quality control) it becomes more of a pain in the ass than anything else. Sure, it’s very easy to find (I challenge one person who reads this to tell me they don’t know someone, however vaguely, who could get them some) but so is alcohol, and if you buy quality drinks that you actually think taste nice (as opposed to the cheapest/strongest in an attempt to get drunk) then it will put you in a very agreeable mood. I guess this is all personally speaking, but to me a good wine, or rum, or beer, and the right setting (good friends and good music) is a comparable and equally enjoyable high as getting stoned is, and without having to smoke anything, which is always a bummer. The only real difference is the laughter that grass brings, and I’m not overly convinced that tricking your body into laughing at something which isn’t really funny is a good thing anyway.

However, I am now going to about face and eat my words.

About three weeks ago, a good and trusted friend gifted upon me a large bag of home-grown produce. As I keep mentioning, I don’t turn down freebies, and this, I was told, was a collection of different strains of marijuana. I was intrigued, but somewhat skeptical of the potency of this concoction. Nevertheless, I cut up the buds and ground them down until I had something that resembled a bag of grass, and I rolled a joint, and I went into the garden of my new house and I smoked it.

My return into the house was comparable to the first rumblings of what I tend to call a ‘kind’ acid trip – a benign force. Colours were incredibly vibrant, far more so than usual, and my limbs were feeling energised yet sedated at the same time. I decided to go to my room, because I have a warm and gentle lamp in there that I bought in IKEA, so I turned that on and lay down on my bed to listen to some music (what else; The Doors, Iron Butterfly, Deep Purple, Pink Floyd.)

What was happening to me? This wasn’t my imagination, I was having CEVs (that’s closed-eye-visuals to the layperson; hallucinating when you close your eyes) and my thoughts were turning very, very LSD. I was having those ridiculous thoughts that when you’re tripping make perfect sense – I realised that fractals change in the exact same way if you move n distance in the x or y axis as they do if you move n distance through time – and I actually wrote this down, pleased that I had solved what I presumed to be a mathematical enigma. Then I started thinking about how my vision was distorting, and if it would be possible to create a piece of software that could recreate the effect. You know the idea; load a video file into the program and then hit ‘acidify’ and see what comes out. I mean that’s a potentially lucrative piece of software, because movies and television never really get that ‘this is what it’s like to trip out’ effect right.

The other really interesting thing that happened to me was that I could see things in the room when my eyes were closed. Now this is nothing new to me; I think it’s something to do with spatial awareness – it’s like my mind is particularly good at taking stock of the location of objects within a room or location and building a mental projection of it. Sometimes when I go to bed this projection exists, because as I lie there awaiting sleep I can ‘see’ the borders of the room I’m in in my head, and the cupboards etc. that are in there too. Anyway, on psychedelics this function of my mind increases in definition tenfold. I held my hands out in front of my face, eyes still completely shut, and I could see a white outline in the murky shifting blackness that was my hands. I moved my hands, the outlines moved. It was like viewing a 3D scene built in a computer in wire-mesh mode. It was good fun, and I watched my hands for a while because with every ‘frame’ the outline broke into a repeating fractal line, whilst it was replaced at the same time with a ‘new’ outline (it’s hard to explain CEVs.)

And needless to say, music appreciation went through the roof. So what was going on? Drug users of the Internet, I need your help. Because, to my reckoning, there are two possibilites for this experience (which has been repeated since with identical results) – 1, this is just really fucking top quality grass, and this is what happens when you get high with the good stuff, or 2, the grass is somehow instigating one of those semi-mythical ‘acid flashbacks’. When I think about it, I really don’t think I’ve smoked any grass at all since I first took LSD in late 2004, until now – but as explained, I am not familiar with grass either, so either of those explanations is feasible in my mind.

Really, I hope explanation two is correct. Good quality grass is probably not the easiest to find, or the cheapest, and I can’t get any more from this source (with good conscience anyway) because it’s grown entirely for personal use – this was just a one-off gift. If smoking grass now makes me have some kind of two-hour acid flashback, then that’s fucking great – a two-hour version of LSD can be enjoyed a lot more often than a twelve hour version, and as it’s so mild I’ve not been trapped in any God forsaked thought loops either. But, it just doesn’t sound right, does it?

So, answers on a postcard please. Or comment, whatever.


5 Responses to “A post about grass”

  1. This is going into druggos a bit too deeply for me, but I highly approve of the image. ;

  2. J Says:

    Option one or two, it doesn’t matter. You need more of the dope. Lots more.

  3. Andy Says:

    I thought this was going to be about lawn care. Don’t I feel stupid. I wrote a post about it though: http://duckbrown.wordpress.com/2006/08/23/oh-so-domestic/

  4. […] I’m getting old.  While surfing some blogs, I saw “A Post About Grass“  I was surprisingly hopeful that this would offer some insights about lawn care, or at least a new angle into the age old “bag vs. mulch” debate.  It turned out to be a post about marijuana, so no help there.  The point is that I realized I have an interest in fescue.  When did that happen? […]

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