02.28.01

I have a confession to make.

I have a love affair with pot. It's true. I don't smoke it that often, but when I do, magical things happen.

Time slows down. Emotions well up more deeply than seems possible. Events seem to blur together like water. I remember my connections to all the other sentient beings on the planet. Crisp, daring thoughts flow out of my mind, pulsing, as vital as heartbeats.

I believe in the fundamental goodness of humankind.

If pot does this to everybody, it's no wonder the government wants to keep it criminalized. It *is* criminal to be thinking these kinds of thoughts. To believe that we all deserve to be happy. Can you imagine? I know, I know. This is the kind of thing that one stoned hippie says to another after a reaaaaally good bowl of herb.

"Yeah, man, we should, like, just get everybody stoned, like *everyone* man, all in one big place, and hug each other to death."

"Yeah! You're like, so right. Nobody could stay mad for long, cuz we'd all be stoned!"

I'm not advocating marijuana as the panacea for societal ills, but I think there is some merit to the idea that if we all shared something, anything, it would be little more difficult to resurrect brick walls around ourselves again afterward.

And I do believe that pot opens people to the possibility of something bigger than anything that they could individually imagine. Mostly because it's a way to allow oneself to exist outside of rules, if only for a short time. Thoughts that you are too inhibited to think while "sober" are allowed. Your mind becomes fertile, green, grows. Becomes wild.

So who's with me? World Pass-A-Joint day. In which everyone gathers ten people who they would never normally even try to connect with, or even better, would normally actively avoid, and they get stoned together. Stranger things could happen.

I'll be the one surrounded by upper class straight white Christian men, trying to get down with their issues.

****

xoxo,

moonbird

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