Doing my best to get through a black-ass mood. Weed helps. And it doesn't.

For example: Last night I was stoned and remembered Thanksgiving back in 2010 or 2011. Leah and I are in D.C. with her cousin at an ice skating rink when she receives a phone call informing her that a college friend commited suicide. A coincidence, he had the same shortened first name as me. In the time between meeting Leah in-person and that day they had been at odds.

This is very superficial and narcissistic of me but when that memory struck my Δ-9-tetrahydrocannabinol-soaked brain made the connection, I was afraid that somehow I'd have a weak moment and harm myself. Same shortened first name. Thanksgiving. At odds with Leah.

Valid xHTML Transitional!