I'm smoking a reefer without breaking any laws, Amsterdam is a wonderful place.
I'm smoking a reefer without breaking any laws, Amsterdam is a wonderful place. The intense amounts of THC in my system are providing a trippy enough experience without any other stimuli. But what the hell, these Philosophers Stones are begging for consupmtion...
Something else is begining to happen in my marijuana muddled mind, once stationary lights slowly drift toward me and the already rich colours of my surroundings are now positively vibrant. The conversations taking place around our table deepen considerably, the mushroom gripping all of us. It is time to move on, we leave the still smokeyness of 'Global Chillage' for the windswept streets of the 'Dam.
Despite the chill walking is a pleasurable experience, the sights of this alien City entrance me. Beautiful blues and oranges compliment each other as they play on the surface of the canal, while shop signs and street lights make for interesting viewing. We find ourselves gravitating towards 'the Bulldog' and once inside toward Purple Haze. The pungent smoke of this classic indica weed is drawn deep into my lungs, my limbs left heavy and my head left spinning. One of our party is taken by paranoia, the setting and the smoking proving more than he can handle. He decides to leave for the Hotel, when he walks in the opposite direction to the exit we decide to escort him back.
With one in bed, there are two of us left. We chomp down a few more Stones and head back out. My mind is convinced he controls the external enviroment, people included. Thinking things seems to make them happen - I realise this is not the case when my friend (who I had forgotten about) distracts me, catching me by suprise and shattering the illusion. We find a gorgeous coffeeshop called 'de Rokerij'. The place is filled with smoke and its creators, statues of the Buddha and Ganesh provide excellent zoning out material. I meditate for an indefinate amount of time, staring at the candle lit Buddha sitting before me, the low murmur of conversation combined with the spacey music lulling me into one-piontedness of mind. I snap out of it and skin up while my friend orders us applejuice. I get a bit freaked out when a Dutch man compliments my skinning up technique and asks if I can roll for him, I agree and manage to pull off a phat b
