Diary

I smoked weed the other day.

Ok, so not really. But really, I did. What I mean is, I smoked like one puff. I don’t even feel too upset or frazzled by it. In fact, I kind of forgot I did it. I mean, that really shouldn’t even count. It was one puff. I didn’t even get high. It felt and smelled the same as “smoking” hookah which I’ve actually done before and is totally harmless. But nevertheless, there was weed yesterday, and I smoked some. I’m more so upset that I don’t have anything against my brother anymore than I am about the actual deed. How can I possibly rat him out now when I’ve done the same thing – albeit, just one puff that will more than likely be my last; in comparison to my brother who’s a frequent smoker and even sells the stuff. But whatever, I’m still guilty of it too. I kind of feel like I let God down again by doing that - and the other thing, of course – which is probably why J never texted me back: my punishment. Also, my throat kind of feels like there’s smog in there which most likely has nothing to do with that one puff I took yesterday and has all to do with my paranoia. The really annoying part is that now when the doctor (or my mom) asks me if I ever smoked or drank, I’ll be lying to their face. I hate being a liar, but there’s no way in hell I’m admitting to smoking weed even if it was just one puff. Needless to say, I don’t think I’m going to smoke again. I don’t like feeling guilty. I don’t like J not texting me back. I don’t like being a liar. And I don’t like feeling like I’ve let God down.

So as for this weed extravaganza? Been there. Done that. And now, I’m moving on.