To be or not to be

I’m sitting here arguing with myself about whether or not I should smoke one. I promised myself I wouldn’t. Why? Because whenever I’m stoned I feel like I need to stop getting stoned. Similar to how I react when eating chocolate, I think.

So, I ask myself why. Why do I want to get stoned? Something to do. Knowing I will do the same things without it. Is it rebellion? I hate rules, even if I make them. Possibly. Is it because I’m sad he won’t be coming over tonight? But isn’t that the same as every other night, really? Yes, and when I have pot I smoke it.

Is it maybe a little bit of control? If I’m stoned I won’t let him come over. It gives me the answer. It is absolute. Do I want him to come over? Of course! Do I want to force the answer because I can’t let him have that power over me?

Nail. Meet head.

Maybe I should get stoned and think about why tears just came to my eyes?

Okay, so let’s flip it then. Why not get stoned? Because I can’t do things I want to do like strip wall paper or work or… am I really going to do those things, though? Maybe because I want to ration. Yes, that’s a good idea. But when I don’t have any I just don’t smoke any. And super duper ex number 3 sent some so I should have more tomorrow- or get arrested, one of those.

Winner?

Chicken dinner.

(Rebellion wins every time. Have you met me?)

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