(1) About a gram of high-grade, locally grown indoor cannabis (unknown strain, probably indica dominant), smoked in a joint, at home alone on a Friday after an exhausting day at work.
Body feels a good deal heavier than it had ought, with a particular weight upon the head and shoulders, a disposition between tension and relaxation. A dulling of the senses in the manner of opiates, but not quite as strong, and with the slightest tinge of synaesthesia. A decrease in the salience of visual inputs and of quantitative informational ones and increase in the salience of auditory and qualitative ones. Looseness of association and increasing abstraction. Affect expansive yet blunted. Sense of time slowed and made more exquisite. The dulling of the sentences proceeds to a dulling of the intellect, but not to the sense of the aesthetic. Much the opposite. Music is sublime. Abstract thought intrinsically gorgeous. Then, there are dark undercurrents, which begin to predominate. A certain broodiness. Paranoid edges to a generalized abstraction. After the peak, it is all negative. A headache, impaired recall, alogia, agoraphobia. A physical feeling of tiredness, but difficulty sleeping.
(2) A medium-sized joint, smoked, same material as above. Alone, at home, tired after work and having enjoyed a pleasant dinner and a few cocktals with a good friend. Listening to The Essential Bob Dylan.
I am smiling for no reason—smiling in response to inner stimuli, if I were to put it clinically. There is a softening and a barely perceptable synesthetic blurring of the senses and a lengthening of the sense of time. There is a dulling of the intellectual sense and a heightening of the aesthetic one. There is an erotic tinge to things. There is a sense of familiarity, of something long known, in some abstracted way. Everything feels a bit more abstracted, there is a general haziness to my perception. But it is a pleasant intoxication. The better part of it is over in forty-five minutes, or so, and then a predomination of the more physical aspects—hunger and a body tiredness. There is a mild urge to redose, but redosing is never as satisfying as going there from baseline.
Body feels a good deal heavier than it had ought, with a particular weight upon the head and shoulders, a disposition between tension and relaxation. A dulling of the senses in the manner of opiates, but not quite as strong, and with the slightest tinge of synaesthesia. A decrease in the salience of visual inputs and of quantitative informational ones and increase in the salience of auditory and qualitative ones. Looseness of association and increasing abstraction. Affect expansive yet blunted. Sense of time slowed and made more exquisite. The dulling of the sentences proceeds to a dulling of the intellect, but not to the sense of the aesthetic. Much the opposite. Music is sublime. Abstract thought intrinsically gorgeous. Then, there are dark undercurrents, which begin to predominate. A certain broodiness. Paranoid edges to a generalized abstraction. After the peak, it is all negative. A headache, impaired recall, alogia, agoraphobia. A physical feeling of tiredness, but difficulty sleeping.
(2) A medium-sized joint, smoked, same material as above. Alone, at home, tired after work and having enjoyed a pleasant dinner and a few cocktals with a good friend. Listening to The Essential Bob Dylan.
I am smiling for no reason—smiling in response to inner stimuli, if I were to put it clinically. There is a softening and a barely perceptable synesthetic blurring of the senses and a lengthening of the sense of time. There is a dulling of the intellectual sense and a heightening of the aesthetic one. There is an erotic tinge to things. There is a sense of familiarity, of something long known, in some abstracted way. Everything feels a bit more abstracted, there is a general haziness to my perception. But it is a pleasant intoxication. The better part of it is over in forty-five minutes, or so, and then a predomination of the more physical aspects—hunger and a body tiredness. There is a mild urge to redose, but redosing is never as satisfying as going there from baseline.
