What’s up with our dating culture?

I’ve had a few very good conversations centred around this topic of late, many of which have been inspired by someone who lives and loves authentically. I’m sure many of you would agree with me that in today’s day and age, dating is hard. Or is it? Is anything in life truly hard, or is it merely our thinking that makes it so? As William Shakespeare quotes, “Nothing is either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. I read an interesting article the other day titled, “Why modern day dating makes me want to punch myself in the throat,” in which the author, Melissa Moeller, explains the difficulty in today’s dating scene. She explains how everything is a “game” where every text, every conversation, and every interaction is carefully calculated to be thoughtless and to create this apathetic image that many have come to believe is the idealistic image of someone who’s single. You can’t text someone twice without appearing needy. Texting back straight away means you’re too eager. They took four hours to text you? Well you need to take five hours to text them back. How fucking exhausting does this sound?! Sadly though, we’ve all been victims to this mentality.

I can empathise with this article because I’ve done that. I’ve been there. I’ve played those games. But it’s exhausting. And it’s fake. And it’s not me. Do you ever wonder why you keep attracting the “wrong” partner? Well consider this. What image are you putting out to the universe when you play these games? Are you being authentically you, or are you creating an image of what you think the other person wants? I suspect the latter. So when you behave in ways that you think other people are going to like, not only is that draining and inauthentic, but this other person starts to like this inauthentic version of yourself. And then, months go by and after numerous conflicts have ensued because well, he/she really doesn’t actually like that emotional side of you, you realise that you two just aren’t compatible. And worse, you realise that all of this could have been resolved within the first few days of merely talking. How? Simple. Being your authentic self. Want to send that text? Send it! Miss someone and it’s only been five minutes? Tell them! Chances are that if they don’t like it, they’re not right for you. “You will be too much for some people. Those aren’t your people.” – Lara Frazier. If you want someone to start liking you for who you are, then start being who you are. Stop overthinking things. Be impulsive. Be abrasive. The sooner you figure out that this person isn’t for you, the sooner you can start attracting those that are for you.

This brings me to my next point: change your story. After many failed relationships, it’s not uncommon for people to create clear images of the partner they don’t want. For me, I didn’t want to date another dishonest individual. So that is all that I thought about, dishonest individuals. What image am I putting out to the universe? I’m putting out one of what I don’t want. So what do you think I kept attracting? I kept attracting what I didn’t want merely because that’s what I was thinking about and focusing on. If I tell you not to think about a pink elephant, what are you going to think about? Well, a pink elephant. If I tell myself that I don’t want a dishonest partner, what am I going to think about and thus attract? A dishonest individual. When we change our image, we change our story. After the last girl I was seeing, I became very clear of what it was that I wanted in a partner. I even wrote it down in a document titled, “Putting it out to the universe”. In it, I stated what was important to me, the non-negotiables. Honesty and accountability were top, followed closely by integrity and being loved with one’s entire heart. Other attributes I sought were kindness and respect, not just for me, but for all human life. And within four months, I attracted this exact person. I am now talking to someone who has been nothing but honest and forthcoming with their feelings and who has shown me the most pure and innocent form of love I could have imagined, one in which there are no reservations. We didn’t play games. I straightforwardly confessed my feelings for her, and she to me. And smoothly, things have progressed since.

Now to the next question, are we dating? Not in conventional standards. We are not officially together, but that does not mean we are any less “committed” to one another. How is that so you may ask? Recall my former post about labels and how labels are only bad if you have an attachment to them? Well, admittedly, I have an attachment to the “girlfriend girlfriend” title. For whatever reason, that title internally changes things for me. When someone is my girlfriend, I start to have expectations of how they ought to behave. I become extremely possessive as though I own them. I want that title because it offers me security, but security, as I am learning, is just an illusion. Why did I feel I needed a title for this security? Well, because if we are dating, then it’s understood we won’t talk to anyone else and we certainly won’t be getting with anyone else. This person is mine and mine only. They are something that is good and I want to hold onto that. And that is possessiveness. And that is unattractive. It also suggests that it will be a lot harder for this person to leave because now they will have to “break up” with me. Again, allowing me to hold onto what is good, even if it isn’t good at the time. The truth is, a title shouldn’t change anything. And if it does, then you have to question why you need the title. If it’s for any of the reasons that I mentioned above, is that really a healthy place to be? I define love as loving someone with the freedom to be themselves without the fear of you leaving. And even if you or they do leave, then that is okay too. Because I would not want someone to be with me out of obligation to preserve the sacredness of exclusive dating. I would want them to be with me only if they wanted to be. “If you love a flower, don’t pick it up. Because if you pick it up, it dies and ceases to be what you love. So if you love a flower, let it be. Love is not about possession. It is about appreciation.” – Osho

Here’s the thing about open relationships, they’re not automatically easy. Nor are relationships. We have this unrealistic expectation that we have to be good at something the first time we try it, which just doesn’t make any logical sense. Becoming good at something takes time and it takes mistakes and it takes failures. What I am learning though, is the importance of communication. Speak your mind. Be true to who you are and what you feel. I was challenged this weekend with a situation in which a guy took this girl that I have feelings for out on a date because he wanted to show her “a good time”. I was conflicted. My head wanted her to enjoy everything that this experience had to offer, whatever that entailed. But my heart was a fucking mess. My heart felt possessive. Jealous. Insecure. So, what did I choose to do? I acted on my head and I encouraged her to have a great time, but I later communicated my internal struggle. I intentionally waited until her night was over to divulge these feelings; I did not want to detract away from her experience nor did I want her to worry about reassuring me – I know these insecurities are mine and I take full responsibility for them. Despite not knowing my struggle, she still managed to say and do absolutely everything I needed her to, and better yet, it was genuine and not prompted by her desire to make me feel better.

Where do these insecurities stem from? I recently had a breakthrough the other day. I have played the victim card for so many years of my life. One of the first things I tell anyone that I’m talking to is that I have a big insecurity of being left because essentially everyone that I’ve ever talked to or dated has left me for someone else. Let’s look at this statement for a moment. This language suggests that being left was done to me. It is as though these girls that I was seeing intentionally left me for someone else to hurt me and that is just not so. What they did, they did for them. They did not do to me. Things are not done to you, rather, they are done for you. Our first response when we believe we have been unfairly treated is to blame and externalise. What if we changed that? What if we instead, tried to understand? I recently offered an apology to the last girl that I was seeing for this exact reason. I was so caught up in this victim mentality that I did not try to understand her perspective of pursuing things with another individual. I assumed that it meant I was not a priority and that she didn’t love me; she had done to me what everyone else had done, left me for someone else. But that is just not true. This was not done to me, but for me. Without that experience, I wouldn’t be sharing this extremely beautiful exchange with the current girl that I am talking to.

So what advice can I offer you? Simply, just be yourself. Be your complete, authentic self. Stop the games. Live recklessly. Be wild. Love without reservations. Become clear on what it is you want. Change your image and you’ll change your story. Communicate. Speak your mind. Seek to understand, not blame. And remember, life is done for you and not to you. We’re all just beautiful creatures trying to figure out this thing called life and what better place to start than being exactly who you are.

If what I have written resonates with any of you, please check out Kaleb Bollen's Facebook page, he is the inspiration behind many of these thoughts.

Also, here is the link to the article I referenced in my first paragraph: http://thoughtcatalog.com/melissa-moeller/2016/04/why-modern-dating-makes-me-want-to-punch-myself-in-the-throat/

Who are you?

When asked who you are, how do you respond? How is it that you choose to define yourself? Many unconscious humans use labels to define themselves, labels that are nothing more than superficial characteristics. “I’m white” or “I’m gay” or “I’m 23 years old” – take any single one of these statements and ask yourself, does being white define who I am? The fact that I’m “gay”, is that all there is to me? Does knowing my age have anything to do with the person that I am? The answer is a definite no. The human language is too simplistic to sufficiently articulate the complexity of all that you are.

So why do we use labels then? We believe that labels simplify life. But I believe the opposite; I believe labels actually complicate life. Labels are used to categorise people and to create separation. Look at religion for instance. The premise for most religions is essentially the same: to love, yet why is it that there is so much disdain between one religion and the next? Why do Baptists seemingly dislike Catholics when they essentially all believe in the same thing? And it’s because of what they identify with. It’s their ego. The ego is what exists when we are unconscious and it feeds off of negativity. So when individuals label themselves, that’s merely the ego creating separation between others which ultimately leads to negativity, suffering, conflict, and the demise of the human race.

I think that a great deal of suffering stems from people trying to figure out “who they are” in regards to what they identify as. Imagine a world where people didn’t identify as anything and just lived. Imagine a world where children didn’t have to “come out” to their parents. I know for myself that I struggled immensely with my identity and sexuality; I couldn’t figure out if I was gay, straight, bisexual, asexual, pansexual, or just plain bloody crazy. I tormented over this for years. Any time I would settle on an identity, there was no relief. Or if there was, it was very temporary and superficial. Why? Because I realised that I was not defined by any single word or label. And labelling myself as anything did nothing more than confine myself to the ways of that stereotypical lifestyle. Being “gay” meant that I couldn’t look at guys or get with a guy because then what would that mean? Would that mean I was bisexual? But I defined myself as a lesbian, how does that work? Can you see how detrimental it could be to identify yourself as one meagre “thing”?

To this date, I do not identify as anything. And it is extremely liberating. Last weekend I was out with my soccer teammates and I was talking to a guy the entire night. I recall one of my teammates coming up and asking me, “So are you bisexual or what? You seem to be flirting a lot with that guy?” To which I responded, “I absolutely have a preference for women, but I’m open to all experiences and all people. Right now, I’m enjoying this guy’s company. Does that mean I’m bisexual? Does that mean I’m “straight” in this moment? Not any more than you flirting with a girl makes you “gay”. I’m merely a human living in this moment and enjoying the company that surrounds me.”

Throughout my life, I have developed a few crushes on “straight” girls and it invariably (to no surprise) hasn’t worked out. It wasn’t because of a lack of feelings towards one another that things didn’t work out, rather because the “straight” girl struggled with just that, being “straight”. When you define yourself by a label you are then immediately confined to fulfilling that particular, stereotyped lifestyle. If you are straight, it is presumed that you do not and will not develop feelings towards the same sex, if you do, well, are you really straight then? Firstly, let me clarify by stating that no one is entirely straight, much like no one is entirely gay. Everyone falls somewhere along the continuum between the two and at any given point, an individual might be more “gay” than “straight” depending on who they find attractive. So these girls that I had feelings for were very attached to the mentality that they were “straight” and could not comprehend nor explain their attraction towards me, a human of the same sex. Because of their attachment to this label, it prevented either of us from capitalising on a potentially beautiful and intimate experience. One in which two humans who are bonded by an attraction and admiration for one another could act freely without judgement or reservation.

The concern for these individuals was larger than just them though. Not only were they trying to comprehend their own sexuality, but there were concerns on how they would be perceived by others. Would they be seen as a hypocrite? A liar? A betrayer to the heterosexual community? Or would they be respected, revered, and adored for acting true to themselves and just being one with the present moment? Chances are, most would presume the former statements in their judgements and that is because of their preconceived attachment to how certain individuals labelled as “straight” are supposed to act. In other words, because of people’s unconscious egos.

I also think that labels can do more harm than good in regards to how it marginalises individuals. Take for instance the race issue in America at the moment. Some (but not all) of the conflict surrounding this “black lives matter” movement stems from individuals’ attachment to their identity with their race. Being attached to their identity creates conflict and separation from others; it creates an “us” versus “them” mentality, rather than an inclusive one of “we”. Those that heavily identify as being “black” are unconsciously encouraged then to adopt a victim mentality, especially given the treatment of black individuals in the past. As I mentioned before, the ego thrives on negativity and suffering. So long as individuals label themselves and remain attached to these labels, they will continue to be identified with this pain and suffering, albeit unconsciously.

My cousin messaged me shortly after the Orlando shooting and asked me how I felt about it given the media’s emphasis on it being an attack against the LGBT community. To which I responded that I did not take it as a personal attack against the LGBT community. I proposed instead that the media’s stance was doing nothing other than perpetuating this victim mentality and marginalising an already marginalised group. Having said all of this, I also understand and acknowledge that labels have certainly helped within society. It has allowed certain suppressed groups to come together and make big changes within society and has also offered others a sense of “belongingness”. For instance, with this whole feminist movement, so many amazing things have stemmed from women identifying as women and fighting to obtain equality. Having said that though, it’s the failure to see all humans as equal regardless of race, sex, age, gender, sexuality, etc., that created the differences in the beginning.

I think the key to "labels" is not being so heavily attached to whatever it is you're labelling yourself as. It is the attachment towards the label that causes suffering. For example, I occasionally call myself gay or lesbian for conversational purposes, but I have absolutely no attachment to that label. So if someone were to call me a “dyke” or some other discriminatory term, I wouldn't take offense to it because I have no attachment to that label which means that my ego cannot take it personally.

In light of all of the conflicts surrounding us with regards to race, sexuality, politics, religion, etc., I challenge you to not identify with anything. Or, if you do happen to label yourself, I challenge you to practice non-attachment to that identity. Because no single word or characteristic will ever define you. You are a beautiful human who surpasses the simplistic limitations of the human language. Labelling yourself is restrictive and encourages separation. It promotes conflict and prolongs suffering. To define yourself simply as “I am” allows you all the liberating freedom to act your authentic self without the expectations of behaving in congruence with others’ preconceived narratives. You don’t need to figure out who you are, because you are already you. And as Dr. Seuss says, “Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” So embrace all that you are in this moment. Embrace whatever opportunities present themselves with complete disregard to how it might define you. And when someone asks who are you? Say: I am.

When in Denver...

I can feel it! It starts off as a tingle all over your body, warm and relaxing. You can feel the force taking over, your body relaxing involuntarily. Your speech becomes slightly slurred as the jaws of your mouth relax, not wanting to open fully to effectively create speech. I can see how taking too much of this can make you “trip out”. Your senses become heightened. You can feel your nose hairs tingling. The vibrations in your ears; sounds are amplified but muffled. It’s difficult to adjust to the sounds in the room. Your own voice sounds inconsistent and abrasive. Your lips tingle, eyes droop, muscles seem to work individually. Listening to music, it sounds like songs are fading in and out of each other. You feel paranoid. Like everyone else can see how much it’s affecting you. There’s a social psychology theory about that, not the spotlight effect but something else…music sounds like it’s skipping beats. Your legs start tingling and want to do nothing other than extend and conform to the elasticity of the pool chairs. Senses seem to flip from one to the next; hearing, sight, touch. You can concentrate on only one at a time. In touch, things come into sight from your periphery; is that a human? Which person in the room is that? Where did they come from? Am I hallucinating? Is this what marijuana feels like? Then to touch, the tingles in your legs intensify, almost to a point where you feel you must oblige to the force acting on them: one of relaxation. You feel like you’re laughing uncontrollably. And for someone who likes being in control, it’s a challenging sensation. It’s difficult to follow a train of thought. Much like your senses bounce from one to the next, so too do your thoughts. Following a cohesive thought becomes the greatest present challenge. The ache in my tooth, my implanted one, seems to ember into a burning pain, but only when attention is constricted to it. Laughs appear more genuine and longer-lasting. People on television sound like they’re all speaking in foreign accents. Even the hairs in your ears are relaxing and becoming lazy with their ability to hear. Your brain becomes lazy too, forgetting things that have just happened.

Sarah and Bridget were just arguing over two and a half and one and a half and one that is, 2.5 = 1.5+1. The argument seemed to continue for a lengthy period of time. Sammy is the only one in this room who hasn’t taken anything so her perception of this experience would be valuable. It’s seemingly impossible to multi task; your mind becomes so single-track minded. You tune into the tv and you can’t hear background noise or see in your periphery. The green text on my phone seems to flicker between green and brown. You can feel yourself wanting to laugh for no reason. Am I saying that because I feel that or because that’s what everyone describes this experience as? How much of what I’m experiencing has been pre-programmed into me to experience? About ten minutes ago, I had a small desire to go to the restroom. Now when I laugh and focus on it, I feel the pressure so heavily. Almost an uncontrollable need to pee…I just got up to pee because I was worried about what would happen if I didn’t. I don’t know how strongly weed affects the urinary system so I didn’t want to chance it. But peeing, what an experience! It felt like your bladder wasn’t deflating because the pressure never lessened, even as the urine poured freely. Towards the end it felt like I could feel my bladder retracting like a deflated water balloon. Sounds from just next to me appear to be coming off in the distance from a hallway that runs in the direction perpendicular to the direction it presently runs.

Despite being a first timer, I think I know my limit. It would obviously be easy to take more, especially as those very renowned “munchies” kick in. But, I still want to experience this seemingly lucid moment and be conscious enough to write about it. The feeling of hunger at first is nothing more than a consideration. A passing thought. It’s been five hours since our last meal. It’s been five hours…now all of a sudden that feeling of hunger escalates. I can be hungry again because it’s been five hours and this definitely isn’t the sensation of the “munchies”. How entertaining the way our brain tries to justify our actions!

I just had my roommate read my writing up until this point and after realising what I was experiencing, she seemingly started to treat me differently as though, “Oh yes, you’re saying this because you’re high.” I felt very aware of the environment and the reinforcement I was getting back. My calf cramped when I was putting on my converses and the pain was indescribable. Sharp. Shooting. Constricted. Hailey and I were talking about charley horses and she said a charley horse was confined only to a cramped calf, but my college teammates told me it was the equivalent of a bruised quad, a “corky” in Australian dialect. Apparently I wasn’t making any sense because Hailey kept looking at me with this dry smile as though I was the highest person she had ever met…I guess in this moment I kind of was. I feel like I can feel my acl too, that’s how sharp my senses feel.

Time is so jumbled. Sometimes it’s fast, sometimes it’s slow. I remember asking Gemma why all of a sudden it seemed like she was talking at ridiculously fast speeds. But I think it has more to do with my difficulty to accurately sense the passing of time. The weight of your decisions seem heavier. The enjoyment of your experiences are dependent on your decisions. But isn’t that the point of life? To be held accountable for your decisions?

Walking up stairs felt like being on a boat, the change of altitude, the swaying of your body. Life sickness. Muscles were heavy, knee pain was targeted and sharp. Did I twist my knee today? But walking back down the stairs, it felt like a never-ending staircase. Didn’t I just pass the third floor? Why are there so many stairs?

I’m fighting the urge to fall asleep, especially in this non-stimulating environment. Ironically I don’t feel like having any deep conversations. I feel ridiculously tired. Like I could float off to sleep. It’s a weird experience to be the only high person around other sober people because you feel so relaxed and stress free that you become seemingly perplexed as to why everyone else isn’t at peace. You feel the present moment so acutely which makes following stories increasingly difficult. You are living in the present moment with no care to the past.

Looking at your eyes in the mirror looks like you’re looking at someone else. Red eyes. Droopy eyelids. Pupils that don’t seem to be a part of you. What are you? Are you a permanent object? Or just a coagulation of coloured air particles, combined for the duration of your life but fragile enough to float away and reincarnate into another object?

Frequently you forget where you are and so you have to ask yourself, what country am I in? With two Aussies around me, sometimes you forget.

I can see how marijuana isn’t addictive but I think people become addicted to the feeling it conjures. Calmness. Peace. Tranquillity.

You feel like a bystander to your own life, watching everything as an observer and not taking any active role. And then you eventually float off into the dreamiest sleep of your life.

So this was my live, unedited recount of my experience with edibles, i.e. marijuana. Before this trip (pun intended), I had never taken any kind of recreational drug. I had smoked a few cigarettes and cigars, but nothing that significantly altered the functionality of my brain. Okay that’s a lie. I’ve had my fair share of alcohol and alcohol does just that because it is a drug (and perhaps the number one gateway drug in the world). Before we left for Colorado, I alluded to my team that I really wanted to try marijuana. Given that it is legal in Colorado and I am no longer a collegiate athlete getting drug tested, I thought it would be appropriate. I also mentioned it to my parents because I believe in honesty and transparency. And well, I like to tell stories so this is one I wanted to share with them.

After demolishing our opposition that Saturday morning 14-0, most of us decided we would take a “happy trip” that afternoon. There were two other individuals who had never tried marijuana before and they were both excited and willing to try it for the first time…when in Denver, do what the Denver kids do! So a couple of us headed to a cannabis store to purchase some supplies. And it definitely was not what I expected. Everything was extremely regulated and formal. The actual supplies were hidden in a room behind frosted glass so that only those who were approved to enter were allowed to see behind them. Our IDs were given and we were put in the system before being escorted around the store by a “tour guide”. It was like entering a fancy jewellery store. All of the products, the jewels, were encased in glass. This was definitely not the candy-store, free-for-all image I had formerly envisioned. I had thought that perhaps you might be able to mix-and-match different kinds of edibles; a gummy, a brownie, a cookie, a piece of chocolate - instead though, you had to buy a whole packet containing ten of each for $25. So essentially $2.50 for each “high” (because 10mg is the recommended serving size). Pretty affordable huh? Given one of my teammate’s no-sweet diet, we decided to share a container of “stroopwaffles” or caramel waffles as they are known to the American public. I thought this rather fitting given my Dutch heritage and the fact that my Oma gave these to me as a kid, obviously excluding the THC though. Despite the store falling short of my pre-conceived expectations, it was highly regulated which I believe is entirely necessary when such a drug is legalised.

So we got back to the hotel room and four of us took one each. We then decided to take another half meaning we consumed 15mg each. We then played the waiting game. Who would be affected first? And how would it affect each of us? We were told it takes about 40-45mins to hit and it seemed to hit Sarah first. We were all in the pool area when she seemed to display symptoms of catatonia manifested by stupor. I suspect I might have been hit next and my experiences were recalled above. I remember trying to read The Alchemist and I read the same paragraph probably about 30 times because each time I read it, I would be distracted by a thought that I wanted to write about. I recall feeling extremely self-conscious and aware of both Bridget and Carley constantly looking over to see how it was affecting everyone. As I mentioned, your senses become dulled but paradoxically heightened. Locating the origin of sounds with any sort of precision becomes seemingly impossible. I recall talking to Bridget and suddenly a sound that originated from across the room appeared to come from up high and to the right, to which I swiftly turned my head in that direction. Was I tripping out? Am I paranoid? Did Bridget notice? Is this the peak of my high or does it get worse? I was mildly concerned that it would get worse because I could feel the pull towards paranoia and uncontrollable behaviour and awareness. A place I really didn’t want to be.

We then proceeded to move up to one of the girl’s rooms and watch television. I was extremely introspective and in my zone as I decided to start writing on my laptop. Meanwhile, my teammates were giggling, sleeping, and arguing for seemingly extended periods of time. Sarah, the one displaying catatonia, wanted another waffle. It had been almost two hours and she said she wasn’t “feeling it”, but to all of us, it was evident she was. Bridget denied her one and instead, took another for herself. Now the argument of 2.5 does not equal 1.5 + 1 arose. What Bridget was arguing is that she didn’t take two and a half all at once, she took one and a half and then one so the effects were not experienced all at once. This is when I became extremely aware of the effects and realised I definitely did not need any more. I easily could have. But I wanted to remain as in control of myself as possible. Which, when on marijuana, is actually pretty difficult.

My Aussie friend from Adelaide who was coincidentally in Colorado at the same time as me, asked to hang out that night. Earlier in the day, it seemed like a great idea – I figured I would be sober enough to participate in meaningful conversations by the time we went out. I was wrong. As she described it, I was “baked”. I felt so introverted and didn’t want to talk to anyone about anything. I just wanted to write and keep to myself. The giggling fits people describe while high, I didn’t feel many of those urges. I felt starved of stimulation when I was taken away from my teammates and I constantly fought the desire to pass out.

So what did I learn from this experience? I learnt that the munchies are totally a thing. I felt like I could keep eating for days because the hunger drive in my brain appeared suppressed. I learnt that your senses become jumbled and your brain can only focus on one sense at any given time. Multi-tasking is not probable. Memory becomes hazy. Reality distorted. Background noise becomes muffled rather than something you might otherwise be able to make sense of. I also learnt that there are apparently two different strands of marijuana: sativa and indica. The former apparently being responsible for an uplifting and energetic experience, whereas the latter for a relaxing and calming experience, one that most of us experienced.

I’ve been asked by numerous people if I enjoyed the experience and I would have to say no. The two other teammates who had never done it before also agreed. The problem with edibles is that you have absolutely no control over their effects. When is it going to hit you? How is it going to hit you? How long is it going to last? All of these questions are pure mysteries. I backed up my Saturday’s high by getting drunk on the Sunday after being defeated in the championship. And the two experiences were polar opposites. With alcohol, you have so much more control over the effects and are more aware of when you’ve reached your “peak”. I could easily have kept drinking on Sunday, but I knew that I was in a good place. And it would last an hour or so. With marijuana, and specifically edibles, there is no indication of when you’ve hit your high or how long it will last, evidently because it’s in your digestive system rather than your bloodstream so it takes longer to process. Nonetheless, there were way too many uncontrollable factors involved in edibles and that is not something I enjoy. Alcohol also made me more outgoing and social, seemingly intensifying the “sober me”. Edibles, however, made me become the opposite; antisocial and overwhelmingly introspective. So to answer my Mum’s question of whether I would do it again, I’m undecided. Definitely not in Atlanta, but when in Denver…

Please note: The names in this post have been altered to protect the privacy of the individuals discussed.