Not Really Into That

This time around, I'm going to stray away from my usual fodder of trying to find work, continuing my education and being an entertainer you read about in a magazine. Not necessarily something like Time or Newsweek but I'll take The Fine Print for now. (I have been published in there before. All hail the man who writes for free.) I want to talk about the nature of drug use.

Looking at my situation, I don't think there's anyone who would blame me for recreational drug use. I'm young and looking for direction. The only responsibility I have at the moment is keeping myself and my room mate's dogs fed. I could easily be a character in a Bret Easton Ellis novel and I would come off as fucking normal. I feel like I'm primed to take part in drug use but I never do. It's not as if I'm not surrounded by drug use. I'm not sheltered by any means. I hang out with comedians and grew up in Miami for christ's sake. My father was under the influence of all sorts of drugs growing up and tell dabbles in marijuana from time to time. He smoked a bowl in front of me this past new year's eve. My little brother has taken a sizable variety of drugs. I also have close friends who do drugs on a regular basis. Compared to them, I'm a real stiff.

Let me make a few things clear before I continue. I don't frown upon drug use. I'm not a square. I even help my friends out when it comes to acquiring drugs. I set them up with a dealer, give them a ride, I even brought home a big of weed for a friend of mine as a Christmas present once. I've also smoked marijuana on more than one occasion. Only once did I get ridiculously high. I challenged my little brother to a boxing match and he knocked me out right on our front lawn.

I got launched into these thoughts because last night my brother was visiting and he wanted me to smoke with him. This is something he has been getting me to do with him for awhile. It would mean a lot to him for me to do this. I realized this as he got on his knees begging me to smoke with him but still I refused.

So why don't I smoke up? I don't know. I have no stigma. I just don't understand it. I don't understand what an altered state of mind will do for me. I already have an overactive imagination. Just ask my girlfriend and she'll tell you about how we play the magician and the tax auditor. I don't need drugs to mellow out either. For that, I have beer. I love drinking and sampling craft brews has become a hobby of mine. I also dive into my hobbies such as baseball to mellow out. For at least a few hours a night, I'm busy acting like the outcome a Hanley Ramirez at bat is all I live for. In a nutshell, I don't feel drugs can offer me anything. Not anything I can already construct with my mind. That's just the way it is.

So when I get offered some drugs, I say no thanks. That should be the end of the transaction. I don't need to hear about how it will expand my mind, make me feel good or any other sales pitch. I don't get into anyone's face about how they could be destroying their brain or doing a disservice to their recently deceased mother whenever they puff, pop or huff. Believe it or not; we can party together. You can bring your drugs and I'll bring a 6-pack of Woodchuck Amber Ale. Just don't try to show me how to live, brother.

"I promised myself, I'm gonna die for something that counts."