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The Philosopher's Stoned
by Guy
Citation:   Guy. "The Philosopher's Stoned: An Experience with Cannabis (exp66451)". Jan 19, 2020.

2 hits smoked Cannabis


I am writing this report on an experience which occurred just this morning. I have smoked many times before, but this experience shook the foundations of my mind.

I am a senior in high school. This morning, the underclassmen had to take PSATs, and the seniors got to come in late. I decided to organize a wake and bake for me and my friends. None of us are true stoners, just people who like to smoke some bud here and there. Last weekend, I picked up a gram from a friend of a friend after examining it in his car. He wanted 20 bucks for a gram, which is a tad steep, but after smelling and examining it, I decided it was good weed, worth the 20. I also have an EXTREMELY low tolerance compared to my friends. I generally see this as a good thing, although I have to watch how much I smoke. For some reason, I seem to geek out a lot more than my friends after smoking before reaching a very relaxed, mellow mood.

After eating pancakes, my friends and I went out on the porch of my friend's house. I had brought a waterfall bong I had crafted the week before and was fairly excited as I had spent quite a bit of time on it. My other friend had his own weed, and only 3 of us were smoking right then, so we had way more than we needed. I packed a bowl in my homemade bong and let the water drain out, creating a vacuum which sucked the smoke into the bottle. After achieving a full bottle of milky smoke, I inhaled fully. It was a decent first hit. After repeating this and taking my second hit, however, I knew that something was different. I packed the rest of my weed up, knowing that I wouldn't be needing it. Within five minutes, I was completely zooted. Time, as well as my vision, was totally distorted
Within five minutes, I was completely zooted. Time, as well as my vision, was totally distorted
, along with an intense variation of 'that feeling' you get, even when only a little high, that only people who have smoked know exactly what I mean. I was preoccupied with thoughts of how little time had passed since we had smoked, and I was nervous, thinking that I might not last the time it would take for the effects to wear off. It was not exactly pleasurable.

My friend suggested that we go bounce on the trampoline and I obliged. I knew it was a bad idea but I got on anyway. Two of my friends were on it already, one wearing green and one wearing red. This color variation became the single most important aspect of my intoxication. Color became the absolute guide of good and evil. I discovered that Blue is all good, and Red is all bad, this was absolute truth. Upon going inside and listening to some rap, I realized that the different colors of the rainbow signified different combonations of good and bad. I was personally wearing green, and I identified myself with this color from that point on. Why was I not Blue? I wondered if I should strive to be Blue. Green, however, seemed so right to me. I decided that Good is not inherently better, Red (ie 'Bad) is not inherently wrong, but does have a tendency to corrupt. Green was the combination that was needed, but for what?

I decided right there that marijuana was a vessel between our regular world and something immense, Truth.
I decided right there that marijuana was a vessel between our regular world and something immense, Truth.
That is not to say, however, that the intoxication achieved by smoking gives one knowledge of Truth. It is only a way to examine the path. All of my friends were represented by different colors, and they were trying to get passed this world as well. I jotted down all of these thoughts, and didn't let them see what I had written. I was aware that there were only a certain number of slots. Only so many people could make it.

Many revelations came and went, many too fast for me to grasp. The one's which were profoundly truthful to me I wrote down. Looking at the ideas now, which I have paraphrased in this report, I am flabbergasted. I can remember exactly how I felt, but none of this makes any sense. Colors are simply not a means to achieve a truthful end, but during my experience, this was so. And so now I am racking my brain for ideas on why I was so sure this morning, but now am sure that I was just an inebriated fool.

I am still left with no idea what is the truth. This morning was the only time I'd ever felt so strongly assured about what was correct and incorrect. Is marijuana a bad thing, then, for tricking me into fake realizations? I am not outlandish enough to say that what I experienced was the truth. Now, I am lost. I have no idea why I reacted this way after smoking. I've never been the guy who takes out a notepad when he's high. I've always just become pointlessly stupid and not able to do much. And I've of course taken much more than 2 hits before without getting anywhere NEAR this messed up. That's why this experience was an enigma to me. I feel that there's no possible way to summarize what I felt and what happened to me, but I had to document it the same day, mostly for myself. I'm not sure what to think.

Exp Year: 2007ExpID: 66451
Gender: Male 
Age at time of experience: 17 
Published: Jan 19, 2020Views: 503
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Cannabis (1) : Small Group (2-9) (17), Post Trip Problems (8), Mystical Experiences (9), Glowing Experiences (4)

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