Smoke Sessions & Confessions: A Black Stoner's Journal

[zuikoden.]

Introduction:

I am here because my Puerto Rican Dad and my Black Ma fell in love one day.
Looking forward to the chill experiences this path will lead me, and to the people who choose to embrace that.

So please expect:

- Black Appreciation
- Censored for decency but still Uncensored. IYKWIM.
- Love for myself and people like me
- But this is also a roleplaying site so yeah, I also have plot ideas, character sheets, and sex playlists.
- Sexy Black Queens and Sexy Black Kings. NSFW.
- Nigga, that's just how I do it.



Now that you're cool with that, check out my profile.​

 

[zuikoden.]

I. Post Frequency.​

So, how often do I post? I post every other day. If not any sooner than that, all I have to say is "I'm deeply sorry for the late reply, I was busy ____________." FILL IN THE BLANK.

[A] At Work
(B) Getting High
[C] With writer's block
[D] All of the Above

Sometimes it's the secret answer: [E] Attending to the favors of my life. I've only met a handful of writing partners who are very understanding and mature about this. To them, thank you, always.

Anyways.

Saturdays are the days I remember how comfortable my couch is. One of my writing aesthetics is here on a cloudy or rainy day, in sweats, a hoodie, and socks. All I wear are dark colors because they mellow my high. I'm not even stressing about Monday. For now, I'm listening to:

Tell the Bay I'm ready, bae I'm on it
I can go all the way until the mornin'
We could do all different type of positions
I'ma have you sucking on my fingers while I hit it
From the back, you like it like that​

I got these big ass headphones on. You can tell a lot about a person from the music they listen to. A playlist is sacred, because there's the ones you can show to everybody and then there are those playlists you can only show God. But a sex playlist is someplace in the middle unless you're the weirdo asking for the aux cord at the next orgy you attend [that's rude, friend]. In my opinion, the HOST of the orgy should be the ONLY one playing a sex playlist. It's their party, you all are just guests.

I deadass slap people for touching the volume in my car.

Sincerely, That Black MotherFucker.
[Excellent inhale technique ft. Denzel Washington]

​

 

[zuikoden.]

In my free time, there is none;
Everybody works two jobs and then some.

"I'll retire young, getting paid is fun;
After hours smoke sessions make my life numb."

These days, it's so much easier to go straight home and sleep. I don't even dream anymore.

I really wish I was home where there is more beer and substance. Waiting for my next day off on Sunday. Doing things I'm not supposed to on camera, but not caring, wishing they'd just fire me so I don't have to be here. And then there's Christmas, looking forward to 2023 for the "fresh start" but I don't believe in myself enough that those days will be better. I hope they will which I take is a good sign?

I used to be extroverted and now I'm an introvert. Somebody once told me it's better to be inside these days anyway, but I think they were really trying to make me feel better. You know how the world is these days. It's cheaper to be inside, It's safer too depending on the household.

My household is safe. It's cheap.
I put up a poster so people have something to look at when they come through.

But at what point are you the problem?
Everyone else is just now waking up and I'm already drunk. Is time an illusion or am I doing this wrong?

In my free time, I am always high.

Do I bitch too much? Complain too much?
When I'm me people are annoyed.

"Just saying".

I don't want to feel lonely so I reach out. When the wrong person reaches back, I ignore them. Tell me how that works.

I'm doing it for attention. Then why does it hurt?

If I'm holding you back, let me push you away. Let me get as drunk as I can by accident and throw up on your bathroom floor. I'll pass out cleaning it up but insist that I clean it because the idea of you cleaning up my mess doesn't get through to me.

I'm already drunk without a blunt, I call it trying to keep up, because a few hours from now, this will be me: drunk with a blunt. I had already forgotten who I was a few hours ago but I remember who I want to be. But without this liquor, without getting high, I'm nothing but awkward, insecure personality. I am too much to handle, but on the bright side, I get off work in an hour.

This is what you want to post? It's ugly, it's long, it makes no sense, they ask questions, I'm afraid of what this will turn in to. But I'm not running anymore. Once it's out there, you'll see me, and hopefully I'm not that annoying.

 

[zuikoden.]

It was the Flight before Christmas, The Blight before Christmas, the Fight before Christmas, make it Right before Christmas when you don't know which way is up until you fall down. I did fight. I fought for you, for us, and I fought for myself last (I always put myself last) to put you first for you, for us, for me. We didn't have to fight, or did we?

Love you more. Yourself.
Love you more. Who is you?
Love you more. What are you?
Love you more. I love you more.
Love you more. You love me too.

I live to love you when you convinced me there's no one else that will. I learned that when my head hurts, I have to find peace. Thats why I decided a gun to my head is how I will end myself, if you don't get it before I do.

Now I'm naked in your shadow, see it all. You've seen it all and I'm not seen at all.

You thought its the right thing to do but you didn't ask me and I didn't ask you, but I'm sorry. Why are you sorry? I love you so much I didn't want you to be unhappy. I was the one making you unhappy and I'm the last to know. I've been lost for awhile but recently I started picking up the pieces of myself I forgot while I was helping you be you. Then I figured out I was killing myself anyway with every drink and every missed meal. I figured out it wasn't anyone's fault but mine. You, though? You need to love more. You don't have to love me, I love you anyway. But you need to love more. Don't love too late.

Now my head hurts and I know where the gun is.

(Note to self though: when your head hurts, take excedrin. Lord what would my ancestors say as they read this? And what tears am I crying? Are they sad tears, do they feel sorry for me, am I still lonely, do they hurt, is it the fear of loss, sacrifice with no gain, the ending I didn't expect? Well, it's a brand new day, no one is awake yet, I still have time. No, it's never too late.)