Dangerous Compassions


lady in the street

I wanted to add about sedation and weed that it’s not about purity, for me.  I don’t believe in purity–the whole idea creeps me out, like some kind of yuck Hitler eugenics shit.  No way.  I’m not pure and don’t aspire to be.

Some people are like that, being vegetarian, vegan, or anti-sex.  I see straight edge as a quest for purity, and some religions are quests for purity too.  If that’s fun for you, knock yourself out.  I will never be pure–I’m just looking for a kind of happy that works for me.

Weed I have not used since I was a teenager.  Maybe I just smoked too much, when I only needed a tiny bit?  I didn’t like how it made me feel.  I partly lost my language.  Conversing was difficult because my mind got too slowed down.  Anything I had to say was no longer appropriate to the conversation, by the time I found the words.

Sometimes I feel like language is all I have.  How I use language is one of my favorite things about me.  So losing that, what did I have?

I still had kindness–the presence of my sacred body.  My bright consciousness shining out.  But back when I was a young person, I didn’t believe my body was sacred at all.  I hated myself, and my body was an embarrassment I pretended did not exist.

Maybe I could enjoy weed now as a fully formed adult, if I used way less, and only around people I’m comfortable with, people I enjoy being that vulnerable around.  But I’m not motivated to try because it’s expensive, and it’s just simpler to stick to what I have, like magnesium and oatstraw.

big pharma

True I would prefer to avoid big pharma.  I don’t want to support them because they are getting rich off the pathologizing of people like me.  Psych meds are personal choice, and I don’t judge anyone for using them.  But personally, I see big pharma as the lowest of the low; I would prefer to have nothing to do with them.

The abilify I took for 11 years was new enough that it was not yet generic, for the first few years.  A month’s supply was around $4000, paying out of pocket.  I was uninsured, as the part time jobs I worked didn’t insure me.

For years I struggled with trying to prove my income to agencies that were supposed to help me, as an impoverished person.  But I worked scoring standardized tests for three different companies.  My work was episodic, so agencies would request paystubs but not understand how to calculate my income.  They would think my paystub reflected a typical week or two weeks and extrapolate a year based on that, which gave them a totally wrong number.  I could not help them understand what episodic means.

I wish charging thousands of dollars for some pills was not acceptable. But we built a world where that fuckery is normal.  It’s so obviously wrong!  There’s a different type of narcolepsy med that might help Ming, but he can’t take it because we can’t afford it.  He chooses insurance plans based on how well they cover his narcolepsy meds, but that particular med is still under patent, so rich people with good insurance can use it, but not him.


I told my friend that thing about language, and how weed makes me not think as well.  She said that’s the point–she used it to turn her mind off.

It never worked that way for me, to turn my mind off.  It just made me not think as well.  I remember feeling trapped in stupid, waiting for it to wear off.  Just wasn’t fun.

Weed in Nevada–I heard when they made it legal at dispensaries, they raised penalties for non-dispensary activities?  I really hope that isn’t true.

Voting to legalize it was the last time I voted.  I had no idea I was voting to legalize it only to help the rich get richer.  So sad, the diy and homegrowers and regular folx trying to hustle, getting screwed by capitalism and the criminal injustice system even more.


I don’t think weed is ever going to be my friend.  But I’m happy for the people who enjoy it and get what they need from weed.

Yesterday’s walk, we saw zigzag in the gutter.


I named my trike Bluebird of Friendliness Pure Bliss, and the pure in her name bothers me. But it really does feel like pure bliss.  I like the phrase pure bliss–and having part of her name rub me the wrong way feels right.  A tension between desires is energizing.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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