Tuesday, August 22, 2006


I've succumbed.

I'm sitting in my outside office, joint rolled, ready to smoke. It's 8h52am down here in Cape Town, plenty enough time to straighten up before Mrs M gets home. I'm not telling her because she would kill me.

I'll speak just now....

Feeling really mellow. Like I'm in the middle of a really good meditation session. Straight after the joint (I only had 3 puffs) I went down to the beach. It was effortless. I felt my pleasurably aching shins from the climb up cape point on Sunday. The wind was howling so I pulled my jacket hood over my ears, and found a little hollow in the rock pools to rest my arse in. On the way back the wind was in my face and I leant into it letting the weight of my upperbody fall gently forwards.

Right now I've got Cat Stevens playing in the lounge. Haven't listened to him for ages. The Cd in the player was Spyra Gyro, which I played the other night for Mrs M's mothers birthday. Its exceptionally smooth. Smoother than Cat Stevens I'm thinking so I'm gonna take myself off down the passage and put some Spyra on. Or should I put that heavy bass dubb that Guy gave me last week...

I decided that the Cat Stevens was fine - just needed the volume amped a bit.

Sunshine keeps threatening to come out today. I wish it would. I used to be a cold weather person (Wet and cuddly) but a strange shift has overcome me the past few weeks. I'm loving sitting in the sunshine at every opportunity and can't wait for the vast abundance of summer African sunshine.

I failed to mention that I had a cigarette when I sat in the hollow in the rock pools. Didn't really enjoy it, but I need something. I've always needed something after a joint. Something to kind of take the edges off. Used to be alcohol. My fuck, I can't believe how I've given up alcohol. Nearly 2 years now. Not a drop. I maintain firmly that I was not an alcoholic, only in social situations and after weed.

Well I'm not gonna have a fckn drop right now. Probably head for another cigarette just now - but NO alcohol. Actually alcohol was the easiest to give up. Cigarettes second. It's weed that I'm going to struggle with the rest of my life...

OK so I might be a little stoned. But I'm thinking that what I am writing right here is very coherent. If not more coherent than the usual crap. Certainly more in the "here and now" than the usual head-in-the-clouds shit. Fckn ironic huh??

Just had an awesome shower, something that, with the latest bout of depression, hasn't happened every day. Hot stinging jets of water drumming my back.

And that's where it came to me:
BiPolar Guy is a Master of Self Deception. Which is not a good thing.
Like, right now I haven't answered my work emails for 4 days. Usually, no matter how pretty shitty the days are, I ALWAYS stay on top of my email.

Truth be told, since yesterday midday I haven't even checked my mail. I'm too shit scared. Some fucker (probably from Friday) is soon gonna send a rude-and-nasty through about the lack of efficiency and response. So it's started this downward spiral. Don't check your email in case there's nasty news -> more chance of nasty news -> Don't check your email in case there's nasty news -> more chance of nasty news -> etc. etc. Classic BPG Self sabotage.

...Like last week was the all time low in terms of working hours put in. Like this week is heading to break that record. Like my credit card balance is setting new records on the upside.


Ok, so the joint opened the gates and smashed any form of Writer's Block right out of the park (as you, just maybe, might have noticed). But what about the WORKER'S BLOCK???

Somethings gotta give. And I guess the first thing that already gave was my resolve not to smoke weed again. Oh well, I'm off for a cigarette right now...speak a little later...

Am I really stoned? Maybe this is all just melodrama from 2 year's fantasizing and build-up about my next joint (I always knew there was going to be another one). I mean, shit, it was only 3 little puffs. Quality puffs for sure, I took our gardener Jackson into his township this morning and procured some of the Best. Pure African ganga from the hills of the Wild Coast. Not like the shit you get on the street.

But how do you know if you're stoned or not? At what point are you and at what point not?? Or am I just missing the point entirely.

Stoned or not, this morning's little adventure has definitly kick started something. Exactly what I wanted it to do. And the thing that got kickstarted, whatever it was, had definitely spluttered to a halt. Quite a long time ago methinks.

I'm really having fun here. Always dreamt about doing a post when I was stoned/semi-stoned/thinking-I'm-stoned. It's like my 2 therapies all in one. Yeah the blog has always been about therapy. And weed - yip that's a therapy too. I mean I don't use it to chill back into the couch and pig out on burgers and pornos. Nah, I use it to think. To try see things from a different perspective. Take stock of where I'm at. Shit I was even pacing up and down the verhanda just now, cigartette shuttling between hand and mouth. I've always been a pacer. I enjoy pacing, it makes things in your head clearer. And I positively cannot talk on the phone without walking around. Miss L seems to have inherited it from me. Ah Miss L and telephone bills...

But I suppose if there is any real critical perspective to be got right now it is:

After 5 cigarettes today - am I once again a cigarette smoker??
Will I have to go through the whole gaddam nicorette patch route again?


Am I now a weed smoker again? The weed is tucked away in a jar as we speak but there's sure damn enough for another 20 joints in there. Where is this all going to end up???


  1. Mmm...joint...yummy!

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  4. man. i feel the exact same way aout the pacing, about the weed for a new perspective.


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