Deep Very Deep
Written by: Ausie
Canada: We have a giant leaf on our flag. What more needs to be said?
A good chum of mine smokes with his dad. Oil, weed, hash; whatever. I'm friends with his kid in a small town in Saskatchewan where outsiders and non-conformists are shunned and frowned upon, so they were both grateful that I was such a mellow dude compared to everyone else.
I would show up every Tuesday and bring a DVD. (I have a huge collection) Family Guy, Robot Chicken, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, 2001: A Space Oddysey, Superbad, Pirates of the Caribbean, Fight Club, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, The Exorcist; horror, comedy, sports. Deep movies, funny movies, scary movies. I...LOVE...MOVIES! And being that he hadn't seen much of them, I figured I would be a good dude and hook him up.
We would smoke before the films or video games (brought those too) would start. And anyone out there who loves to blaze knows that a good high is beyond pleasure, beyond pain, beyond complacency. It's....beyond.
Everything better when you're stoned: Food. Music. Conversation. Time. Colours. Tastes. Sensations. It doesn't matter. We would smoke...and smoke. Once or twice I would be so high, I'd forget how to breathe, or could hear my hair grow...or completely melt into a couch. I'm a quiet, fairly shy dude. When I'm stoned, I get even more quiet, or talkative on occasion. What happens is called "the introspective silence". That's where you just button-down and inwardly reflect. And with trippy shit on the t.v. playing, it just passes the time. If we got hungry, there was a bar that would whip us up some food in no time flat just a stones throw away.
My buddy (Stu) resembles Kurt Cobain...seriously. It's kinda scary. If he's got nothing else to say, he just laughs and says, "Yeah!" Kinda sums up his whole character.
At the end of the night, I'd have to drive 20 miles to get home. In complete darkness. Stoned off my fucking ass. It would begin with me traveling down a dirt or gravel road (Saskatchewan has the biggest grid road system in the world). During the cold, biting winters or the chilled summer nights, the province is full of wildlife. But on some nights, when the moon is full on a clear night, you can turn off the headlights and let the car drive YOU home...if you're careful.
The stars are endless and wheeling. Every constellation in the North can be seen. Shimmering aurora borealis dance in the sky. The air whizzing out my window is always cool and sweet and the Hendrix or Metallica on the radio keeps you awake.
The road I go down, ol' 752, is long and endless. Cops don't use it. Cops don't know it. Rest assured, I can make every trip in and out of town a safe and decent one with that load off my mind.
Even though it's only 20 miles, sometimes it can take me over 2 hours to get home. Once it was because I wanted to "listen to the different noises of the engine". The other is because I was checking out rolling hills and landscape. If I saw and moose, deer or anything on the road, I slowed down. Sometimes, when I was feeling stupid, I would see a hare on the road and start to accelerate. I would sing, "Kiww the wabbit! KIWW THE WABBIT!" as would scare the bunny. Thankfully, I haven't hit any of them. They're smart enough to get out of the way.
Before I would roll into the yard, I would stop at the dip of a small valley. Next to the road was a dug-out filled with water. Summer nights would cause it to form a mist of vapour to rise out from it. It caused the air regenerate and become fresh. Crickets chirped and packs of coyotes howl and yip in the distant.
This to me, was my vacation.
After one more puff, I would crawl into bed...with the giggles.
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