homie homie

How can I think so much about NOTHING. I am nervous, anxious, uncomfortable and tense, yet nothing is on my mind. The illusion of thought engulfs my body making me nearly sick, yet I couldn't tell you one damn thought that has crossed my mind. I hate this feeling. I hate it. All of this thinking (or lack thereof) has lead me to come to one conclusion. I smoke because I hate this. I hate being uneasy like this. When I'm high, I chill. I have a good time. Everything comes natural, but being sober...oh that's like being on a whole other planet. A planet with no oxygen, but nobody told you to bring a space suit before you arrived. A planet where nobody speaks your language, and you've forgotten your english-to-said language dictionary. A planet where all of the furniture is covered in that weird plastic shit so nothing feels like home. Being high is just my excuse--my actions, my words can all be blamed on me being stoned, but sober, I have no excuse. And as much as I'd like to say I don't give a fuck what people thing, I do. I really do. I care probably too much what other people think of me, especially my best friends. I feel like everything I do is awkward, unacceptable. This is the reason I try to act like I don't care because truth be told, I care so much that it makes it hard for me to live life the way I want. In public, I couldn't give two shits about anything--sometimes I act a fool just because I know it will make other people annoyed, angry or uncomfortable and I find some sort of sick, twisted pleasure in this. Messing with uptight-middle-aged women working at high-end department stores one of the best things in life, but as soon as you get me around somebody I know, it's a wrap. Something triggers in my brain and all 'normal' activity stops. I begin to consciously think about my every move, my every sentence, my every action. I am too afraid that those that I adore might realize that I really am not worth their time and effort. I fear they will finally see how weird and fucked up I am--even though I am fairly certain that there are more fucked up people than me, but fucked up so much that it's somehow acceptable (but being just slightly abnormal is a crime)--and just leave. Stop associating with me. I have a few close friends, but damn it's so much easier to interact with strangers. Less time, less effort. A comraderie for about five mintues and that's it. Hit it, then quit it. I like it. Call me lazy, but I like it. Anyway, I think I need to start writing more. Getting these words out of me leaves less of them to swell within me; the tension starts to disintegrate. I can dig it. Maybe I don't need pot and just need to write, but dude, what's more fun than getting high? Activities while being high. That's what.