“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer”
I’m smoking a bowl in my backyard and the futility of existentialism isn’t giving me any lip.
It’s been a very long, often tumultuous journey to reach such a trivial personal landmark. But damn sometimes you just need to take note of being totally captivated by unfiltered bliss.
I stopped enjoying weed but continued to smoke it during a serious bout of bullshit that took hold of my life. Any amount of pot would send me spiraling to the point of panic attack induced vomiting for a solid year before I gave it up.
I’m 23 and I’ve finally accepted, among many other things, that one thing I can’t do is burn one and simultaneously enjoy alcohol and that the crossfade is something to truly fear. This is a new realization since reigniting my love for pot and holding on to my affinity for craft beer.
But lo and behold, I’m here. I’ve lapped the sun a few more times and even came to terms with the brink of insanity herself. I’ve been to hell and back, for lack of a more cliche phrase.
But on my way back from hell, I discovered an endless well of self love that springs from within. I’ve been letting my cup overflow with gratitude for my struggles and dried tears because every single shit situation I’ve been thrown into has finally brought me home: I’m smoking a bowl in my backyard and the futility of existentialism isn’t giving me any god damn lip.