Sweet Leaf
My dear friend Doña Juanita has been unfairly demonized for far too long. Blame the feds, the church, and the alcohol lobby.
I enjoy my nightly indulgence. The world is quiet and I can finally relax. I like to sit on the back patio with my wife and gaze at the stars, giggle at stupid jokes, and ruin the day’s macros with assorted snacks. Then we’ll watch a movie or doom-scroll on the big screen until I hear her snore. This might sound unbelievably lame to some people, but it's my favorite way to spend an evening.
For me, the sinsemilla is self-limiting. I’m a lightweight. Too much leaves me an anxious mess, so I’m very careful just to corner a bowl and enjoy the ride. Even then, it’s only at night that I realize the greatest benefit.
I’ve tried smoking during the day plenty of times. No matter the amount, it’s almost always a bad experience. It’s as if the stress of the day is heightened. The sky becomes oppressive and I can’t seem to escape the violence of the sun. The noise and the people and the endless obligations. It sucks.
But at night, it’s so different. The dark sky is like an embrace. The cold indifference of the moon settles my nerves. I feel at home in the gentle night air, listening to the croaking frogs and the occasional coyote.
Nature provides. I wish more could experience it like I do, without the puritanical baggage weighing them down. It’s a shame Texas is moving backward.