What you are about to read is the diary of a mental illness patient who is sincerely coping with his conditions by using cannabis as a treatment of control. His imaginary universe is now receiving an alternative therapy which plenty of the scientific community would not object but rather not play with such a taboo part of society standards. Cannabis is neither frown nor agreed upon in the psychological circles as a treatment for depression and other emotional dilemma faced by our civilization. Some rather advocate the legal drugs in bottles due to the threats of the big pharmaceutical companies whom had been playing with the health of countries as a battleground of profitability. In the journal you are about to read contains the negative and positive effects of cannabis on a mind. Enter the mind that is living in lucidity.
You want to know what is the saddest thing about being me, it’s not only that I am depressed with a mental illness but to top all of that I am broke as hell from a mediocre family who would considered this predicament of mine as nothing more than a personal demon that I should face without any help. Heck living in this country where the nearest professional help I have to drive into the district of the rich and where the people find these things taboo and should be remain hidden. Mental illness is a taboo in this society. They don’t want to talk about it but a recent study shows that 11 out of 100 Malaysian are facing depression. The first step to going loco, the gateway drug to insanity but hey don’t worry we got alcohol to drown the sorry little emotions away, if you're religious then there is god to make you feel a whole lot better. Unfortunately I do not have such comfort of a deity protecting over me, nor is my liver made out of German engineering to withstand the immense alcohol consumption to put my demons at bay.
I sit here at this bus stop next to a highway, early on Thursday morning coming back from work while everyone else is rushing to work. I could see the sea of metallic cages with humans trap in them, frustrated and anger at the traffic on this beautiful morning. The air was naturally cooled with its morning breeze especially with the small little forest behind the bust stop but that is easily overshadowed by the immense amount of dirt that pours out of the exhaust pipes of environmental killers. The heat that they radiate are painful for my facial expression to signify any happiness and thus the vibration of my environment continues to flow in the negative patterns.
The blood is throbbing in my head; I could almost feel each passing flow of my vein. My brain is telling me that the paradoxical illusion of my mind is due to the lack of sleep but proper deduction of my predicaments would states the contrary. My lung is still filled with the smokes of cigarette which burns within minutes on my lips. My throat covered with the mucus layer that filters the tar leaving a nicotine taste on my tongue which mixes perfectly with the caffeine residue in my mouth. This is perhaps the worst week of my life. For the next seven days, I would barely catch a proper sleep due to the extreme hours of workings and to top it all off I haven’t got my weed. Sleep would be a luxury for this end of March in the year of 2013. The world is a vicious place when no one treats each other the way they wished to be treated, with love and care. No, we live in a world of distrust and self-centeredness with our hunger for money has left the children of the future to play in the ruins of human greed. This week, I would only catch 4 hours of power naps and with no cannabis to calm my mind; I don’t think it is very wise for someone in my state of mind. Even as I write this I could feel the energy draining. Oh how I wish my Sativa would come and recharge this energy of the universe.
My depression has already returned to its peak and soon, my hallucinations will follow by. Schizo they would call me. Bipolar, depression, social anxiety, or whatever other psycho -annalistic terms that they wish to label and categorize my predicaments, all I hear from these doctors are madness. Like literally, I hear this that is not there.
I have been facing this demons of hallucinations of my mind ever since I was fifteen back then it was a great feeling. My imaginations were in control of things and the hallucinations weren’t strong at all, it was tiny and very rare episodes within a year but the following year when everything was falling apart at home and school my emotions ran wild. Unfortunately for me during these times my strongest emotions were sadness and terrible visions. I tried many ways to overcome this obstacle but the madness was too strong for both my imaginations and help of gods. Hours after hours would I pray on the mat, hoping a sign of help away from these bad visions but no angels were there to rescue me. I tried reevaluating the gods. I was blessed to grow up in a family that is open with religion and I was lucky to have made many friends from a different creed and religion. I was exposed to the many deities that man had worship. And with this bountiful amount of resources, I look upon searching god. I learned every Abrahamic holy books and tried their rituals, none was successful, I tried the countless other gods of Ancient worlds but no Odin, Zeus or Ra did I saw. I prayed and prayed even sold my soul to stop the torture but no Satan would buy it. This was of course before I even tried smoking the cannabis.
The first time I tried weed was in the park outside my window, it was with group of friends but it didn’t do jack !@#$%^&* to me. The second encounter came closer at home. I was already smoking cigarette for almost a year then and was desperately looking for some relief. Tried searching in my mom’s bag and guess who I found In my mom’s cigarette box, that’s right it’s my Mary Jane. I thought heck, if my parents smoke it then its safe. Tried it and it was the greatest feeling ever. At first paranoid for the hallucinations were getting more and more extreme, I hear them, see them and now I feel them. But then I accidentally played the movie which I was so obsessed about for the last few months, it was the Beatles musical movie, Across the Universe. I was so in tune to the rhythms of the songs that I forgot why I was scared and sad about. Soon I figured I could control these hallucinations for my own benefits. That was one awesome night, felt like I was part of the movie. The hippie was born that very moment, I understood then what was going on. I am high and this is good. I know the difference between Ganja and Acid now but back then the very first time it felt closer to acid than ganja. Marijuana helped me control my schizophrenic visions into one hell of a great acid trip, man.
So you see I can’t just stop smoking weed because it helps me man. Now I know you might say that I am now depended for weed to control this but nope you would be wrong. You see I didn’t become a heavy smoker until the age of 19. It was always an on/off thing but as I escape school and thrown into the real world, I feel really really out of control with my madness. The world is a scary place and unlike my dreams I can’t control anything here. Reality is a nightmare and I felt like a lost boy out in an open sea, clinging to some sort of help. Every time I reconnect my lips to a joint of marijuana, I found peace and for the next few days I was optimistic and positively in charge of my life. So then I wondered why does this help? My quest for god has left me an atheist but my love for cannabis has renewed faith for this universe. I did what my curious self would do, I did my research. I learn the effects and the structure of the cannabis, and then I learn as much as I could about the human brain.
Alongside to this information, I gathered and narrow down my condition. I went on a philosophical journey of self-consciousness and returned awed with the answers it provided. Cannabis part of this planet earth or as we always felt since the beginning of our human evolution as mother earth, Gaia, the spirit of life. The cannabis is a connection back to the earth and the universe above us. Though the feeling is just temporarily we were a part of the universe and we always will realize that we are a part of the earth. Cannabis gave me a way of getting by in this cold harsh world without letting my hallucinations ruin my mental health. Of course at a time I did overly abuse the ganja. Every second of my waking hours with lung filled of THC is only natural especially for a person who just lost his heart to a girl. Before the heartbreak, I was a balance enough person. Smoke weed whenever I have the time and find love with another soul but that soul doesn’t like my Mary Jane. I did what any idiot would do when they are in love. Quit the weed.
For a time, it was good but things get complicated in relationships and tension rises with emotions. Concentrated emotions are bad for me as they are the food for my nightmares. My visions are mad with paranoia and jealousy. So I did what I must, I smoke it without her knowing. Of course it makes things worse when I am not stoned. I get even more paranoid. I lied to her. I told her the truth eventually but as expected it creates a commotion of conflict. I smoke again and again but told her none. It was not the love that I wanted. Mary Jane was there for me when I was about to jump off the roof with suicidal high school emotions, she saved me. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be stoned to vision my dream girl, Anna Maria and I wouldn't have made it to where I am right now without both lovers. After the break up, she was there comforting me all day and all night. Thought some would think too much but it was needed to be done. Mary Jane, I loved you. I would never let anyone get between us ever again. Nowadays I have learned to hold my baby Mary Jane properly, not too much or else I can’t buy her food but not too little to the point I don’t know why I am working so hard for green pieces of paper.
So yeah, I can’t give up weed. I got married to Mary Jane. She has my heart now. So if any future wife of mine has to give her heart to Mary Jane as well for us to be together. And that is why it is hard to find me a girlfriend. !@#$%^&* hippy. Call me a Loner Stoner with a Boner..! My first ever status update on Facebook which is like my first ever internet fingerprint was: Nazreen is Stone-ing. And nothing has nor will it ever changed. Marijuana is not exactly curing my mental illness but it helps me get it under control and still able to be productive in my life or else I would have been jumping in a rubber room shouting that I am late to a tea party with a man who makes hat, a talking hare and a hiccupping mouse. Meanwhile LSD or Acid, has allowed me to truly feel that my hallucinations are actually quite normal and fun too. It’s like my mind is always on acid or something that’s what these hallucinations was or at least that’s what Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds has told me. Maybe Ayahuasca, Mescaline, Peyote, DMT would tell me something different, I have yet to find out but for now, Marijuana is the only thing that keeps me sane. No matter how insane that all must sound. :)
My body aches with weariness and my eyes tirelessly tries to open a gap of sight. I have felt numbed and disconnected. Used and abused by the greed of mankind but I keep my heart strong and my head high. I stare at the clock, it’s been 48hours since I had any sleep and in exactly 4 hours I would need to wake up again to start my day. I am tired. I just wished to return to my bed and never get up again. I want to fall back into my dreamland and escape into my own reality. At times like these I wonder why I even try. I wonder why I even care anymore with this harsh cold world of ours but in my heart lies a spirit that can’t be burn away, the more you burn the more it grows. My heart is set on its mission to free the cannabis oppression to prove my love to her, Gaia. I want to ensure mother earth greatest gift to the living organisms was the telephone to the heart of the universe. I know that I need to get up because it is all to benefit my goal. I am only awake now because of her. For the last forty eight hours I have been fucked in the mind with hatred and scorns of society but she helps me get through the day. She ensures the comfort of my troubled thoughts. She recognizes and supports my body with bursting energy of luminance to ensure that I would one day find away to liberate her. Anna Marijuana, Zoey Sensimillia, Jenny Cannabis, Winona Weed, Daisy Bud, Erykah Ganja, these are my ladies, these are my lovers. I am guilty of loving her in the first degree; I love my women more than me.
The shimmering sunshine skips a beat with the shadows of the passing buildings as the bus which I gotten on from the bus stop make its way through the rich and poor parts of town with no discriminations to its passengers. The shine blinds my eyes with illuminations of particles a million miles away in space. It bounces on the surface of these ignorant slaves like the bulb in the movie projector. All of these souls are just tiny pixel on a larger and grander scale of visual resolution. They sit silently in their chosen seats waiting like schooled cattle heading to the milking lines. Yes they are cows giving their milks away to a beast that would suck them dry. And the only option given by the beast on a way out is for them to enter the inescapable slaughterhouse. Exit the system is considered mental. Like a holy cow jumping across the night sky to visit its cheesy companion of Gaia’s natural lunar satellite. Yes, I’m a holy cow. A cow that have tasted the conscious altering grass on the open field of life. I am wild cow of the jungle. Yes cow all these souls. They have been fooled by the wolfs, they have forgotten that deep inside their hearts there is the voice of the Harimau (tiger) and the roar of the Lion of Judah.
It’s been a scorching day, like the oven turned onto its maximum torture for the tropical sun. It’s the kind of day that even after a very long shower as soon as you step out of your door you will be sweating like a pig within minutes. With this kind of weather it is easy to see why Malaysian is so lazy all the time. You just want to stay in your comfortable little sofa in your air conditioner blowing ice cubes to your face. But for the unlucky few, life must go on. I could feel it now, the sweats pouring out of my pores like the endless waterfall of fats. My entire body feels the sticky might of dried salty waters. So what am I doing here? Shouldn’t I be getting some sleep in my tight schedule? Nope, I have something more important to do. I need to buy my Mary Jane. A call from my dealer, my best friend got my plans changed and my entire week looking positive. From a dark demented long week changed to look perfectly normal typical lifestyle of a working bohemian. All with the help from my friends, all with the help from my weed.
I bought the bag and rolled a few joints in his car. I thanked him as he speed away to his busy delivery routes. I walked through the alleyway to make my way to the train station while lighting up the joint on this fine sunny afternoon.
The trickles of the rain gave a sigh of relief to the animals of the concrete jungle. Finally a shower of cool rain. The common but yet strange weather pattern of the equator. I smell the burning asphalts evaporating the water droplets into steams. I love the smell of the rain. It is days like this I miss the sight of her. I feel the THC in my lungs rising up with the steam of the paved earth, as it crawls through my veins like the serpent of my soul. It is days like this I miss the sight of her. The weather has the exact same pattern to the days that I have fallen in love with her. As the rolling grey clouds fly high above, the birds flying for shelter in the growing trees that recently bathed in sunshine. It is days like this that reminds me of who I really am. A bohemian Rasta at heart.
The thunder roars like the conquering lion of Judah in the sky while the slave remains oblivion. She speaks of frustration and chemical imbalance but mankind fears not her lightning. We have become what we feared. The trees dances with the wind as the streets filled with headlights of the oncoming traffic reflecting the rains flooded roads. From a simple raindrops to a heavy wash over the city have left the small and badly planned drainage system of this country overflowing with the unexpected power of Mother Nature. Each car gave a continuous wave of motion. Tsunami of rain swallows the sidewalks leaving none dry. The innocent souls struggle to fight the wind and rain. With umbrella flapping out of its structure. The power of mother earth released in a gushing act of display. She frightens her child to wash away their sins but they listen to her not. The bridge of the crossover swallowed whole in a swarm of rain droplets. No sight was visible as the roofing and other loose objects ripped away from their mainframe. The bridge is now an overflowing swimming pool for rats.
My curious optical organs stare up at the raining sky as the lighting flashes a visual illusion of the Lion of Judah. She roars in his words.
I knew exactly what my mind is saying to me right now, stoned not real. If it wasn’t the cannabis, then I would thought it was my mental illness. It might be, or it might be real. But because I know mother earth provides the cannabis, I must not worry for these society gates wont lock the tiger in my spirit. Madness is their rules and standards of moral decency. They question not their illusion of social structure that is madness to trust in an imaginary value on pieces of papers and spend their entire life chasing this fiction in order to improve the way they live their life. I am not mad because I know what human really are on this planet. I know though I see visuals and hear audios that are not originated from this reality but at least I had cannabis to free my mind from their madness. One madness at a time. Their madness was easier to get rid off because their madness was never really accepted by my mind.
My mind is a logical thinking brain with creativity to cover up the lack of social skills. It is simple and quite normal at any standard, the only difference I can see things and hear things that my over imaginative mind can produce. It’s all easy to control when you understand that these hallucinations originates from your own mind, thus if your strongest emotion is negative then it would be walking nightmare but if its positive then it would be like having your own special effects on reality. Anyone who ever taken LSD or any other hallucinogens would know this from the beginning always be positive when taking such stimulants. Hell any other stimulants are just the same, take coffee or beer, if you go into it negatively then you would get negative results. My brain is just special in the fact that it is always on its own naturally produced acid of my mind. So I don’t really want to get rid of it, I just want to keep things positive. Which is why I get easily depressed, I know their madness and I know that I have to continue living here and with my visions dipping into the strongest emotions, their madness would only amplified into my madness but with cannabis hugging my soul I am the happiest child on earth.
I feel like a sketchy drawn figure stuck in a dirty page of notepad with coffee and wine stain. Every thought creates a new dimension of artistic lines of abstract imagery of emotions. All sudden I felt a deep pain in the pores of my skin, a throbbing feeling of an alien thing beneath my epidermis. With the sharp pierce of a dub step bass drop a pathways of colors burst out from every single spores of my body surface. I saw a tiny lion cub flying out of ear with wings of an angel, I felt the trees growing out of my nostrils, ufos floating my eyeballs out of its socket, the vines of Gaia crawling from the sole of my feet wrapping my whole legs like a pair of earthy pants and I feel the fire blasting my rib cage open allowing the phoenix fly out of my heart. My hair grew in speed of sound with the rhythm of the song, with instant dreadlocks and other weird looking tentacles of unknown origin. My hair flags its self with the wind of change as it set still like a maine of a lion and my connection to the spirits of the weather. A tunnel of dizziness sets my focus into a single floating object, it was my target and dream and my hope.
Maybe someday in this concrete jungle we live, survival is only through love but it’s hard for me to love someone when my eyes could only see devils in disguises because that is exactly how the systems has made me see.