Journal Entry 10-14-16

Amy Winehouse – Love Is A Losing Game.

Approximately 20 hours since my last entry, inwhich I detailed an extremely important event related to my psychology. I smoked marijuana, revisiting the rare, dramatic, and detrimental influence it has on me, for two reasons. The primary reason was a fact-finding mission; gathering information for metacognition. The second, minor reason, was for social engineering purposes: my co-workers wanted me to. Peer-pressure doesn’t influence me, but the event will prove useful in the future.

Currently, I’m physically and mentally exhausted. The physical exhaustion is a combination of spending two days digging trenches like a wildman, and the extreme physical stresses that marijuana places on me – my muscles remain tense throughout the event, my heart hammers against my chest rapidly, I’m constantly fidgeting and shaking, etc. The mental exhaustion occurs due to the obvious and extreme stresses of furious insanity – I’ve also got a persistent, low-grade headache.

I’m fine; I just need to recuperate. There are some residual, detrimental mental processes occurring now and then, but they’re minor and will be eliminated with rest and meditation. I picked up two packs of cigarettes to facilitate recuperation, though I hope to smoke only as much of them as needed to ensure safe recovery – I probably don’t need them at all, but better safe than sorry. And I miss cigarettes.

I texted the boss the night of the event, telling him I would be unavailable for work until rested; it won’t be any threat to my position. He was also there when I was, at first, denying the offers of marijuana on the grounds that “it makes me crazy”. So if questioned, I’ll say that I warned them, and that what I predicted simply occurred.

No issues there. Oh, and I didn’t freak out or anything while in their company. I know when marijuana is about to make my crazy, so I simply find a nice quiet place to writhe out the storm. Fuck was it intense though. If through some miracle, I have a lurker sizing me up as a potential mate, and they’re concerned about my well-being: I have neither intent nor desire to smoke marijuana again until much later in life, for purely research purposes.

Not much to say, otherwise. Though, of course, I did think of the Tranny while high. Utilized some of those aforementioned perspectives, in the last entry, to analyze our interactions. I feel like I got better insight into his mind, but nevertheless came to the same conclusions asto my affection toward him: he’s extremely immature, and its best for me to forget him, though still being available should he ever want to talk things through – which I doubt will ever happen, and am almost certain would change nothing.


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~ by Louis Naughtic on October 13, 2016.

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