I didn’t want to get high but the first time that I smoked weed was when I was a school-boy, and it had nothing to do with my former school. It was  at that time that my Grandma asked me to pass on a message to my cousin who was staying in Nottingham. The cousin shall be held anonymous to avoid him getting into trouble with his parents. Funny enough, it had nothing to do with him, the school, or even Cypress Hill:  It was his flatmate.

For some reason that I cannot recall, he thought that I smoked cannabis. Let’s go back, I was a school-boy trying to comprehend God’s existence and blossoming. I dare say that I wasn’t aware that atheism and agnosticism existed. Also, I believed in good karma. I was very much like a sweet choirboy with angelic wings.

So there I was waiting in the flat for my cousin to arrive that he gave me a big question: “Do you want some?”

Some of this? He’s asking me if I want some of that stuff? I thought at that time. Of course, it’s considered illegal and not to be seen getting caught outside of churches, schools and what about police stations. I would’ve said, “No.” However, he was treating me as a young adult! Being a school-boy meant that I hated English lessons. Also, the fact was that they were based on teachers wagging their fingers on how to speak proper English. I never saw the fun in it until I began reading Greek mythologies and comics. Now let’s get back to that flatmate.

He was treating me as an adult and he was also a student at University. “I wanna get high, why not,” I replied.

The drag. Oh the toke on the joint, let me tell you that I thought straight away that the gentleman was weird  — maybe a bit insane — as I felt nothing. Yet,  I became stupefied that something was happening to me! Oh my God! I was supposed to pass on a message to my cousin when he arrives, I thought to myself. I didn’t panic at all, let’s face it that it does mean going berserk. I just chilled out in my seat listening to some electronic music and having  a polite conversation.

If I may recount the feeling that I had it was that my body is the temple. At times I think I haven’t a clue what my cousin’s flatmate liked to talk about, but I think it had something to do with politics. I had visited the place before and I saw some of his work which seemed to suggest that he thought that the right-wing were all fascist pigs that are only out there for greed.

After realising that my cousin wasn’t coming back any time soon, I passed my Grandma’s message onto my new bud.

I’m just now going to chill!

I’m exuberant to announce that I’ve some space coke!

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