Red Mosquito

spike wrote:

doug rr wrote:I think we're going to do a dry February...except for when we're in London

What’s your London drink? G&T?

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

washing machine wrote:Been struggling again lately with wine and thc gummies. It's a compulsive evening routine at this point and it's noticeably affecting my mornings and by extension my responsibilities throughout the day.

Anyway, yesterday I decided to stop/take a break/whatever and that was tougher than I thought it would be. Feels okay this morning though. We'll see where this goes. I know myself well enough to understand that this is not the hard part. That's coming. Not sure if I want to be totally sober or try actual moderation. I don't think I want to give up life's intoxicating moments entirely, but yeah.

washing machine wrote:Thanks, tree. Been running lately?

tree_ wrote:

washing machine wrote:Thanks, tree. Been running lately?

You're welcome. No, man. Not at all. Been kind of in a funk too for a while, similar to yours. Not awful, but not super healthy either.

washing machine wrote:

tree_ wrote:

washing machine wrote:Thanks, tree. Been running lately?

You're welcome. No, man. Not at all. Been kind of in a funk too for a while, similar to yours. Not awful, but not super healthy either.

Oh man, go on. Are you feeling locked in a routine?

washing machine wrote:Ah, gotcha and been there. Lately when I'm perfectly content with a day at the beach or going out on a run, I'll start thinking about how getting kinda stoned on a half dose of a gummy would just make the moment shine that much more. I'm not impaired or absent in these moments, but I'd like to get back to seeing the world through the same sober and awe-inspired eyes that my curious five-year old does. I see a lot of myself in him when he picks up a leaf and just totally gets lost in nature. I think he gets it from me, and it's helped me remember a default setting in my personality.

Rick Rubin's book The Creative Act has actually helped a lot with trying to return to whatever I've gotten away from, but you're right... it's just so easy/comfortable to just keep on escalating the moment with a buzz of some sort.

tree_ wrote:

washing machine wrote:Ah, gotcha and been there. Lately when I'm perfectly content with a day at the beach or going out on a run, I'll start thinking about how getting kinda stoned on a half dose of a gummy would just make the moment shine that much more. I'm not impaired or absent in these moments, but I'd like to get back to seeing the world through the same sober and awe-inspired eyes that my curious five-year old does. I see a lot of myself in him when he picks up a leaf and just totally gets lost in nature. I think he gets it from me, and it's helped me remember a default setting in my personality.

Rick Rubin's book The Creative Act has actually helped a lot with trying to return to whatever I've gotten away from, but you're right... it's just so easy/comfortable to just keep on escalating the moment with a buzz of some sort.

Yeah man. I relate. I have so much joy with my two young children. That must be natural for everyone. And in that way, I know I'm not too fucked up. It's just like you said, I often just have that thought that I could be feeing better right now, because pot and booze do work so very well at doing that. I just have one of those brains I guess. I feel like I'm a better person when I'm a bit altered, and people actually seem to agree. I get out of my shell. But I do know ultimately I should work on breaking through that shell without cheating, and that would be the best version of me. Again, it just seems so daunting, and so much easier to just keep doing what I'm doing.

Spoiler: show

tragabigzanda wrote:Was at this little gift shop a couple days ago, and they had these CBD weed pre-rolls by the register. This was maybe the second or third time I'd seen a joint since I quit smoking.

I was immediately curious, like "wow, a pure CBD strain joint, I hadn't considered that..." Within a split second, my brain was percolating with the where/when/how could I pull this off? "My wife won't care because it's just CBD, but she'll hate the small, and she'll hate the idea of my kid seeing me smoking. Maybe I could smoke it after she goes to bed tonight. Or maybe during lunch tomorrow? I wonder how much I'd have to smoke to feel relaxed. I wonder if I smoked too much if I'd get a little buzz? Maybe it could just be like part of my nightly post-dinner stroll around the neighborhood. But then I might run into other parents I know, and I'd have to explain to them 'don't worry, it's just CBD..."

This was all in the span of like two seconds. I kind of chuckled at myself and turned around and walked out of the store.

Higgs wrote:Its confusing. Shouldn't I at least get a merit certificate or something?