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Sold on the grippy socks: The psych ward

The story of how I was convinced to allow myself to be induced into a psych ward by a slippery tongued university therapist some 4 days before my non-refundable flight to Amsterdam; What events led up to this happening, the beautifully insane and memorable experiences that took place while there, how I escaped in time to make my flight, and how it all worked out in my favor to give me an extension on all of my finals...I will elaborate on these things soon.

Ok lesson learned.

I feel like knowledge is the ergonomic acquisition of wisdom. because people may tell you things that are true, wise, but unless you receive it properly, or witness it in a particular analog, you won't be able to recognize how and where it applies in your own existence. I don't like preaching but I do enjoy rejoicing, something just clicked for me and I want to laud it up for a minute. To begin I feel like the idea that one either has an introvert battery or an extrovert battery to be a mischaracterization. I think, at least with myself, I have both. Where, an aspect of who I am tires from social interaction and another aspect of me is nourished by it. I think characterizing social batteries in this way sets one up for tangible solutions to the ephemeral problem of "loneliness". Because you may properly identify the emotion within yourself, you may give it the right name, others may identify it in you as a recognition of what you're going through. But unless you r...

Types of joints I've smoked in my life and the names I've used to describe them.

A joint: weed + organic hemp rolling papers A dirty joint: weed + tobacco + organic hemp rolling papers A sweet roll: weed + honey + organic hemp rolling papers A bombed joint: weed + organic hemp rolling papers + 45s in the microwave A Gaza strip: Hash +  tobacco + organic hemp rolling papers

Travel blog 6 days before Christmas: Strasbourg à nouveau

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For reasons I say that this contains fiction, any persons or places seemingly referenced is purely coincidental. Viewer discretion is advised.  Also, some of these words are links to things, give them a click to see where they go. I feel like, I'm at a point in thought right now where I'm like; "As soon as I am able, I will take a chunk of cash and build some sort of mud-stone-terracotta mansion out in the middle of a blazing hot secluded desert. Near some river I'll plant a moringa tree and a mango tree and survive off of meditation, yoga, books, fish, mangos, and greens for the rest of my life in peace and seclusion." Because right now, running away from the "problem" of life seems to be a more effective method for peace than trying to derive some formula to solve for it. There are too many variables, you see. People often say something along the lines of "life is hard" or its a "bitch", and then moments later, shrug their shoulders...

The room

What about the room? I mean, its a plain room. Well not really, Geometric and blocky, black-white, zig-zags color the carpet floor. The walls are, blue?... In view above my feet and away a few feet from the bed, a tv hangs off the wall- about midway in height between the floor and the ceiling. Below the tv a table juts out from the wall and follows to the right along the wall stopping before nearly touching the corner or beginning of the next wall. In the space between the end of said table and the beginning of the next wall, there, in the corner of the room, standing in height about double the distance of the wall-table to the floor is a lamp. Some bottles of sparkling and still water sit gathered under the curved head of the lamp. There, also, my wallet, passport below it. Headphones, the folding welcome-paper card that once presented my room key. A sock, a pen. Some fabric I think that might be the mobile gloryhole thing I ordered. Its actually a little bit messy overall, I'll t...

Travel blog: Physical touch down in Amsterdam- How thirsty am I actually?

I'm eating jamon iberico ham on a croissant and sipping expresso in an airport lounge😌. I just got here and I'm already having a great time. On the plane here, me and the guy to my left(I sat in the middle)- a hot, bearded, slightly pudgy, German guy...Midflight we took off our shoes and played footsie. I didn't realize how hungry I was for physical touch. I was hard the entire time.  God- something about that moment when you both realize that the accidental foot touching isn't so accidental. Tentative touch after tentative touch. The one-shot-flight-secret-intimacy-lottery. Where 99% of the other passengers wouldn't have participated, maybe some would have even hailed a flight attended to try and get me added to a list fit for perverts. But for some reason, he was my type,  and for some reason he was also interested, and for some reason he was sitting right next to me.  I like how he melted into me. Towards the beginning of the journey he sort of held himself ...