A mildly schizophrenic stoner showed me the meaning of life (via r/trees)

Gotta love r/trees

Found this today:

 By Becnizzle

I took a sick day today after waking up feeling like doodoo, physically and mentally. I live in a very high-class, wealthy, and frankly, kind of stuck-up area, but today I was visiting a nearby, sleepy seaside town where I go to find solace and peace and to be among people with whom I can relate.

After calling my boss and e-mailing other co-workers notifying them I would not be in today, I took an early morning ride down to the water to drink some coffee on the beach and set my mind at ease. Life has been busy lately, and I’ve been feeling a lot of pressure with GRE prep, grad school applications, work, and family issues. Everything is good and fine with my life, I have no right to complain, but I’ve definitely been feeling the pinch. A mental health day was necessary.

As I was heading to the beach enjoying the sound of the waves crashing, I past by two middle-aged professionals. I smiled and nodded, but they did not return. For some reason I was bummed by this, and proceeded to make my way down. I sat by a log and realized that I felt kind of lonely, but in a good way. In the kind of way that makes you feel more open to the idea of a perfect stranger sitting down to have a conversation with you. I figured, if someone walks by while I’m sitting here, I’d love to just have a light conversation about just about anything. Just to feel more human.

The universe listened. Onto the beach walks a scraggly looking, middle-aged man. He plays with a dog on the beach for a little, then walks my way.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Good morning,” I respond. I feel a little flinch of worry as he gets closer to me, not sure what his intentions are. He looks a little strung out, sure, but not dangerous, I decide, so I relax.

“People always ask me ‘What’s so good about it?’ and I say, well, you’re upright, you’re breathing, and you have a pulse. Why complain?”

I smile and encourage him, “You got that right, brother.”

“Did you hear about the oil spill in Santa Barbara?”

“Yeah, isn’t it crazy?” I say.

“Twenty thousand gallons of that poison in the ocean. It’s a crime.” He’s very well-spoken. “We got solar power, wind power, water power, electrical power, hell even man power, and here we are spilling this shit poison into our ocean and for what? For what? So people can have their fancy cars and their big homes.”

Shit, son. This man is echoing the thoughts I’ve had on the environment, and the oil industry, and excess wealth, et al. I’m listening.

“And you know what? People call me crazy. They tell me I’m homeless. Homeless? I’m not homeless. Just because I don’t have four walls and a roof doesn’t make me homeless. The only way I could be homeless is if they put me in a rocket and sent me to the moon. The earth is my home, it’s all of our homes.”

Preach! He continues…

“We live in a messed up world. You see all these perverts out there, eating up pornography. And those guys say ‘Hey, all we’re doing is teaching people how to have sex!’ Bullshit. All its doing is taking away the human experience of love.”

This guy’s getting serious now. I dig.

“And look at these pharmacists, pumping poison into people while cannabis is still illegal in most places. Cannabis is a healing herb. They hand out drugs for diabetes and say there’s no cure. Yeah right! All natural baby, it’s the way to go. I ain’t diabetic anymore. I’m healthy as can be, from smoking cannabis.”

Don’t know if that’s 100% true, but I couldn’t agree with him more about the hypocrisy of fully stocked pharmacies carrying dangerously addictive opiates and hypnotics, while a simple herb has been banished and outlawed. Last year I started having serious sleep problems, and was put on Ambien and some other drug I can’t pronounce, only to be hit with very unpleasant side effects. Ironically enough, the drugs stopped working after a while, and I was left sleepless again. Marijuana has been the ultimate cure for my insomnia.

“They say I’m mildly schizophrenic and homeless and useless, and I don’t care. I follow my own rules.”

I literally wanted to cry at that moment. Here’s a dude that has summed up everything I’ve been thinking about in the past few months. I’ve wanted to fit in, to do what others want me to do, to fit into society so I don’t feel like an outcast. Don’t smoke weed, don’t have too much fun, get a job, go to school, get married, buy a car, buy a new car, then buy a TV, then buy a newer, bigger TV, go go go go go.

Stop. Let go. Enjoy your life. Be yourself. Forge your own path. Question everything. Make your own decisions. Your view of the world is unique and unlike anybody else’s. Embrace it. Own it. Share it.

“You are speaking to me right now. You just made my day, brother. I feel you.”

As he walked away, I feel like I couldn’t adequately express my gratitude for this perfect stranger, mildly schizophrenic stoner that showed me the meaning of life.

2 thoughts on “A mildly schizophrenic stoner showed me the meaning of life (via r/trees)

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