Citation: Anti-Hero. "Undeniable Ignorance....But Whose?: An Experience with Cannabis (exp15509)". Erowid.org. Jun 25, 2002. erowid.org/exp/15509
This is much less than a real, valid, contained 'experience report'. It's more like something that belongs in my journal, but I thought that since it pertains to drug use and family/friends, it might be relevant for a report. After all, all types of information are important.
In the summer before my senior year of high school, I tried Marijuana for the first time. One hit. Gave me a headache. After that I didn't smoke again for almost 4 to 5 months, but in that time, I took my first MDMA tablet, and it was good. I bought some Kava Kava recently, and was experimenting with that. I also had gone to a health food store to get some nutmeg. N2O happened sometime last month. I tried salvia last night.
It may sound like I'm rushing all this, but all of them, I believe, have been responsible choices, and in the right situations. I had done lots of research, and read many reports. Pretty much the largest amount of writing I could get my hands on.
My dad recently found out about my marijuana, basically because I told him, instead of lying to him. I don't like having to lie to him about it (I always tell him when I'm going to be drinking).
He spent four hours in my room last night ignoring the fact that we both have work today. He kept spewing, repeatedly, all the social rhetoric that we've both been socialized to repeat. I tried to present my argument, but he wouldn't have it. I told him I would only really be able to accept any argument from his side if he was able to present me with anything: statistics, studies, real life examples, that proved he knew anything factual. (He's from Egypt...His ONLY information is the D.A.R.E. program since he came here at 25. It makes it hard to educate him...) He couldn't tell me what weed did to one's mind, to one's body, short or long term. He knew nothing except that it was bad. Now I admit that everything has an opportunity cost and opportunity benefit (As you can tell I just finished senior year. Go econ!) but I believe that the fashion I'm practising in is fairly safe. I know where to go to help, should I need it. He's considering sending me to rehab, over a third of a gram of weed. He could most likely do it, too...The laws in California are very wishy-washy...there are no definites. Last night all I heard was:
'It makes you so argumentative and hateful'
-That's because you're telling me I'm wrong.
'It only leads to worse things'
-It didn't with mom! She's an antithesis to all of this.
'Drop it now, Christopher. Drop it now. No good can come of it.'
-I believe one needs to know their own mind. I don't want to be 53 years old and never have lived a day in my life, like him. I want to travel the world. I want to fly in a hot air balloon. I want to sit on the sidewalk just to hear the bums play their guitars. I don't want to be him.
'If it wasn't bad, it wouldn't be illegal.'
-Datura isn't illegal. It's worse than almost anything schedule It's just that it isn't profitable, so they don't care as much.
'This isn't your choice, Christopher. It's mine.'
-I guess I should become racist and religious then, too.
This is my rant, this is my warning. If you think your parents aren't going to understand...They aren't. I don't believe that I could be sent to rehab anymore (I'm 18), although he could simply report me to the police. I wouldn't go to college.
I'm seriously in a bad place here. I can't see any chinks in his armor (short of smoking him out...ha.) because he has a preprogrammed response for everything...He doesn't even think of what I say.
If Anyone has any advice for me, it would be appreciated...
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