If you really want to get to know me, just know that weed is a great part of my life. If you can’t open your soul to that, don’t bother trying. I will tell you histories with sparkling eyes about great monsters or infinite colorful holes. Weed is a part of my everyday routine, for good and bad, it helps me create and therefore survive. It helps me evade from this world I can’t tolerate. It makes movies, sleeping, socializing, lecturing, working better. Or at least it makes it ok. It has saved me lots of damages, and helped me when I was lost and helpless. It made me see a world where neverminds. You may think I’m crazy or hallucinating. But it really is that way. The truth is I could give it up for you, and that scares me as it amazes me. It would mean that your only presence, the slightest touch of your skin against mine, the sweetest or more hateful word you say could take me away from this Earth I don’t deserve. There is none certainty of stopping theses drugs that live inside of me, but as you come closer to my side, as you tell me you love me and that I deserve it, I fade into your eyes with all this suffering of mine. And I almost feel as I don’t need these substances no more, as if the dust your presence blows it’s invading my weak mind and making everything just look like a weed alike trip, going through the deep holes of my soul, embracing them and giving some light about a possible future time.