Business  So long as its between two condescending adults, then its okay. I’ve signed up for the most mentally challenging feat I think I’ll ever attempt. Own it. Even the worst mistakes. Just grow up and own it if it’ll be the last thing you do. You cannot blame others for your own shortcomings. It is and always will be your first instinct, to look everywhere else but within yourself for the answers. Its yours: own it. Moms. I understand the sloth called bureaucracy. Everything takes time. Time is not cheap as it turns out. Neither are accountants, or lawyers. Anyone who knows how to navigate such an intricate system demands more money. Mo money mo problems, Mase. I know intricate systems, learned the algorithms and proposed methodologies. Not an expert, far from it, but knowledgeable enough that if given the opportunity I might be able to do some good.  There is no place in this world for reckless violence. We must accept this as so in order for it to be true. I am such a hippy but seriously man, why can’t we all just get along? You can put me in close quarters with any person on this earth and I can find the good in them. The worst of the worst I will try and step into their shoes, take in all sides of every story. I’m never sure of a person as a whole, I can only gather what I experience in meeting them for the first time. Observational something or other. This is why first impressions are key. This is why I love elevators and cab rides. You are given a short amount of time to get your point across and some people, they make an art of it. Like angels, they gently steer fate having your attention for just an instant. Think about it. Think of every epic cab ride conversation and measure it against your lifespan. Measure the impact on your soul and realize that even when given constraints, people can still produce the most marvellous of things with the littlest of effort. The feel good stuff. I want to chase the feel good stuff for the rest of my life. The stuff that restores faith in humanity.  
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Business 

So long as its between two condescending adults, then its okay.

I’ve signed up for the most mentally challenging feat I think I’ll ever attempt.

Own it. Even the worst mistakes. Just grow up and own it if it’ll be the last thing you do. You cannot blame others for your own shortcomings. It is and always will be your first instinct, to look everywhere else but within yourself for the answers. Its yours: own it. Moms.

I understand the sloth called bureaucracy. Everything takes time. Time is not cheap as it turns out. Neither are accountants, or lawyers. Anyone who knows how to navigate such an intricate system demands more money. Mo money mo problems, Mase. I know intricate systems, learned the algorithms and proposed methodologies. Not an expert, far from it, but knowledgeable enough that if given the opportunity I might be able to do some good. 

There is no place in this world for reckless violence. We must accept this as so in order for it to be true. I am such a hippy but seriously man, why can’t we all just get along? You can put me in close quarters with any person on this earth and I can find the good in them. The worst of the worst I will try and step into their shoes, take in all sides of every story. I’m never sure of a person as a whole, I can only gather what I experience in meeting them for the first time.

Observational something or other. This is why first impressions are key. This is why I love elevators and cab rides. You are given a short amount of time to get your point across and some people, they make an art of it. Like angels, they gently steer fate having your attention for just an instant. Think about it. Think of every epic cab ride conversation and measure it against your lifespan. Measure the impact on your soul and realize that even when given constraints, people can still produce the most marvellous of things with the littlest of effort.

The feel good stuff. I want to chase the feel good stuff for the rest of my life. The stuff that restores faith in humanity.  

Man going backwards on this Tumblr page must be a trip. You can literally see the exact moment I stopped smoking weed and the resulting brain weep that follows. Fluctuating. I go back and forth. Swing between happy and sad from day to day.  Couldn’t get out of bed this morning. Wasn’t at work yesterday. Not in today either. I’m not slacking. Its legitimate. I cannot function right now and I don’t know why. I wonder if its from the not smoking that is doing this to me. Not even a week without the burn and I am finding it increasingly difficult to cope with emotion. I know it isn’t addictive physically, but its a crutch, for sure. I need a clear head, I need to be sharper, but the consequence is having to deal with real life with no emotional barrier.  I’m used to being ‘okay’, with everything. I feared I might okay my life away so I stopped.  I’m faced with the question of why I won’t pick up the guitar. Deep overwhelming analysis of every relationship ever. Career prospects. Family pressure to conform. Unavailable friends. Lack of time. I don’t have the balls to ask for help or guidance. I don’t have the faith to sustain me through the questions I cannot answer. I find it excruciating to be filling in the blanks. To be waiting. To turn the other cheek. To proceed to the next level. I’m a problem-solver by nature. I don’t like leaving things hanging. It bothers me that I cannot function like a normal human being because my head isn’t on straight. I’m not lazy. I’m just uncertain of a lot of things. Weed brings with it a comfortable haze that glosses over everything and makes it seem not half as bad as it really is or was. The second you negate that one little leisure activity after having been so wholeheartedly committed to it, well, panic ensues. Fingers crossed I make it. Everything that was so easy and so smooth a few short weeks ago is now one hell of a climb. I don’t think I’ve cried as often as I have this week and for the most benign of reasons. The little things that set me off are just unreal.  Every time I stop with the pot I wonder why I started in the first place, and then I start again and I wonder what kept me from it. Its a conundrum. I’d like to not do it anymore. I’ve got to make every move with the confidence that I am competent, that I am headstrong and that I cannot blame mistakes on being baked or uncertain. I hate this feeling. I know it takes a while to normalize and I will but right now I feel like a methhead. How can something so benign absolutely consume a person? Weed is a helluva drug.
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Man going backwards on this Tumblr page must be a trip.

You can literally see the exact moment I stopped smoking weed and the resulting brain weep that follows.

Fluctuating. I go back and forth. Swing between happy and sad from day to day. 

Couldn’t get out of bed this morning. Wasn’t at work yesterday. Not in today either. I’m not slacking. Its legitimate. I cannot function right now and I don’t know why.

I wonder if its from the not smoking that is doing this to me. Not even a week without the burn and I am finding it increasingly difficult to cope with emotion. I know it isn’t addictive physically, but its a crutch, for sure. I need a clear head, I need to be sharper, but the consequence is having to deal with real life with no emotional barrier. 

I’m used to being ‘okay’, with everything. I feared I might okay my life away so I stopped. 

I’m faced with the question of why I won’t pick up the guitar. Deep overwhelming analysis of every relationship ever. Career prospects. Family pressure to conform. Unavailable friends. Lack of time. I don’t have the balls to ask for help or guidance. I don’t have the faith to sustain me through the questions I cannot answer.

I find it excruciating to be filling in the blanks. To be waiting. To turn the other cheek. To proceed to the next level. I’m a problem-solver by nature. I don’t like leaving things hanging. It bothers me that I cannot function like a normal human being because my head isn’t on straight.

I’m not lazy. I’m just uncertain of a lot of things. Weed brings with it a comfortable haze that glosses over everything and makes it seem not half as bad as it really is or was. The second you negate that one little leisure activity after having been so wholeheartedly committed to it, well, panic ensues.

Fingers crossed I make it. Everything that was so easy and so smooth a few short weeks ago is now one hell of a climb. I don’t think I’ve cried as often as I have this week and for the most benign of reasons. The little things that set me off are just unreal. 

Every time I stop with the pot I wonder why I started in the first place, and then I start again and I wonder what kept me from it. Its a conundrum. I’d like to not do it anymore. I’ve got to make every move with the confidence that I am competent, that I am headstrong and that I cannot blame mistakes on being baked or uncertain.

I hate this feeling. I know it takes a while to normalize and I will but right now I feel like a methhead. How can something so benign absolutely consume a person? Weed is a helluva drug.

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