So I smoking a wee bit of pot to dampen a migraine. A I got stoned. And had a migraine.
It is legal here for medicinal use and recreationally. I have chronic pain so I have from time to time tried it for pain. Migraines are iffy… they always are for every treatment and wouldn’t expect this to be different.
And there are some projects I wanted to work on. I do not like to get Stoned stoned, just buzzed enough to handle the pain. But sometimes the pain is that severe I end up pretty stoned and still in pain… just perceive the pain less. Or with some other types of severe pain it will blow it out of the water. But again, migraines suck… just really bitchy. So a severe one is just stuck there whether you like it or not. Migraines suck. A lot. But medication to abort them can only be taken 2 days a week and there happens to be 7 days in a week and my brain likes 6-7 migraines a week so the math doesn’t add up at all.
Inspiration
Okay, so being stoned is awesome sauce for inspiration. As I lay there, I was actually writing chapters in my head of this blog, my other blog, my non-fiction, book, my current WIP. Then I’d realize I was doing in and go WAIT, WHAT? and Poof. Gone. Not even a shimmer of a memory of what I was doing. But then I would doing it again as my mind wondered. I guess that is where my mind wanders. Back to writing. And yeah I was left with same tidbit and shimmers of ideas. Even this idea. I thought this very thought. This is weird. Anyway, point is, it was pretty awesome for inspiration. Of a lot of random ideas. And brainstorming. And dialogue between characters. And A WHOLE lot of MUCHNESS.
SLOWwwwwwwed
Time was infinitely slow. I had the TV on as background noise and this stupid ass morning show came on. That I despise with the heat of a thousand suns. But I had just noticed it was on since I was too preoccupied with two billion thoughts. So there was fifteen minutes left. I was like I can tolerate it. They yammered on for another half hour of annoying hellish crap about Halloween and I checked the time… two damn minutes had passed. I had to change the channel for thirteen eternal minutes of some other show.
Nappy time
I then fell asleep which is pretty common a reaction to me. Just saying. Nappy time. It doesn’t matter what strain it is, at all, ever. I will nap. Maybe pain and fatigue and pat make it so I must nap on it, I don’t know. But I do not care what you say that strain does… I will nap.
Writing
Not a damn word. NOT. A. DAMN. WORD. Oh, I could have leaned up and took my laptop… which was on and actually written some of that stuff in a free flow of consciousness… but that seemed like way too much effort. I was snuggled under my winter couch blanket with just my nose peeking out lost in this flow of thought… jumping from random thing to random thing. Losing thoughts as fast as they came to me and I was cool with that. But actually sit up and grab some paper and a pen, also right there, or my laptop? Uhg. Like a marathon of freaking effort. That would require getting out of my warm, cozy thought cocoon for one. No way.
But some of those thoughts stuck around and, damn, some good ones too. I mean, great ones. I am impressed with my stoned self. Others not so much.
And Nappy time again
I’m just saying. Super duper sleepy.
So I don’t exactly recommend that strain for writing. It is one for pain not that I remember what it is. And with those naps and a darkened room and just resting… that migraine is way lower in pain now and so much more on the tolerable side of things. And it may in fact go away since I am not turning a damn light on. Screw light. I hates it.
Not saying others could not write stoned and have a wild inspirational time of it. Only I am more the lazy, snuggle bug, who takes a nap instead. Also not really an experienced smoker so it hits me hard. I have no tolerance and if I did maybe I could.
See more random writing posts
How not to write a book
Are you sure you’re not a fictional character?
Things writers think about
The Wyrd 