Personal Essays

The Symbiosis of Grief and Smoking Marijuana – The Fix

The thick smoke, cotton mouth, simmering laughter, and grief have become wrapped up in each other. Being high was the reflex with which I confronted my life.

It was spring of 2009 and we were a gaggle of 19-year-old girls, trying to con our way into a dormitory none of us lived in for the sole purpose of using their kitchen. We had already tried using a George Foreman grill and a sauce pan to melt the weed we’d bought into butter so we could make brownies. We hadn’t really planned it well enough, but in the end we made them successfully and all watched The Doors film high off our faces. It was one of the best nights of my sophomore year of college.

Most people have funny weed smoking stories. I tried to dive head first into a box of Cheerio’s once while watching Fight Clubfor the first time. I had to watch it again to fully understand what was going on which kind of ruined the big reveal, as my hazy memory conjured up the spoiler at the last possible moment. This happened subsequently with Memento as well. Read more…

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