So the other night I got high, like really high, for the second time in my life. I dont really smoke weed, tried it a few times but when I did it was always when I was already smashed drunk so i never got the real experience. Anyway, a bunch of my friends smoke and have been smoking for years. Suffice to say they all smoke some highly potent shit. I didn't really plan on smoking that night but when one of them offered me the blunt I just said fuck it and decided to join in. We smoked two back-to-back. Let me reiterate my inexperience with weed... I dont smoke, like ever. Not every once in a while. I just dont. I've tried it before but got sick because I was always hammered drunk each time. I dont have anything against weed, I just always ruled it out as not my thing.

So we're sitting there and I'm trying to stifle my coughs and start to feel it a little bit and tell the guys I'm good and they finish it off. It felt cool. I enjoyed it thoroughly. I didn't; however, realize how high I was, or should I say, was going to get. The other two guys finished the second blunt and we head inside to eat dinner that my buddy's wife made. It was good but I didn't feel like it was any better due to being high. Whatever. Halfway through the meal, I start to feel every little crumb and texture in my mouth every time I take a bite. I can feel it going down into my stomach. I'm suddenly aware of my entire fucking body. Every god damn inch of it. I look up and realize I have no idea what the fuck is going on in the conversation. Every time I move my head it feels like I'm in slow motion. I start to question whether or not I'm moving too fast or if my mind just can't keep up. "Am I acting weird because of it? Do they realize how high I am right now? Fuck they've got to. Are they making fun of me when I'm not paying attention?"

Suddenly the doorbell rings and they ask me to answer seeing as its another really good friend at the door. I walk over, try to compose myself, open the door and am greet my friend and walk back. We talk for a bit and eventually I have to take my cousin to his house so we get in the car and drive. I know I shouldn't have driven in my condition but I severely overestimated my ability to drive.

On the drive, it was like another wave hit me. Maybe it was the lights passing by added with the music but as I was driving I felt like I doubled my highness. I was so paranoid that I wasn't driving correctly but every time I looked at my speedometer I was going the speed limit and I wasn't swerving.

So anyway, here's where my confession comes in. As I waited for my cousin to get whatever he needed to get from his house, I was listening to Deftones in the car. I was so fucking wrapped up in it, I couldn't believe it. It was so good. I mean, they were songs I've heard hundreds of times, but never were they this good. I feel like I finally "got it." I've been listening to Deftones for years, but I finally understood why stoners love them. And instantly, not a second after I realized what was happening, I felt so fucking cliché. It just sorta took the fun out of it. I spent the rest of my time worrying about not acting like a dumbass. I wanted it to stop. I mean, I enjoyed it. Will definitely do it more often, but I totally ruined my own fun. Bummer.

Tl;Dr: smoked weed with a bunch of long time smokers, went from 0 to a 10 almost instantly, rediscovered one of my favorite bands, and felt super cliché about the whole thing.