I was a goodie goodie. I never drank, smoked tobacco only once or twice before, did very well in high school, had a decent group of friends, very caring and interested parents. Then how the hell did I get to that point where my life was almost not worth living anymore?

Starting NYU was going to be a crazy experience. I knew that before I started. Getting that phonecall from my future roomate the summer before college began was very exciting:

"Hey man, my name is Jeff. I'm gonna be your roomate next year. Do you smoke bud?"

It was also very depressing. My life was about to start anew amidst a stoner. The type of person in highschool that I would usually have nothing to do with. Someone who I viewed as a worthless drain on society. It is surprising how much you can learn about yourself from those you least expect it.

A month had gone by. Living in a room with not one, but two stoners, was very strange for someone from such a straight-edge background. Their daily bong hits and drinking games were getting quite crazy. Eventually, the bong being passed around, it comes to me, and instead of passing it along as usual without taking a hit, the thought of 'what's so special about it?' crossed my mind.

"Should I take a hit?"

"Go ahead man. You've never tried it before. Lose your virginity, go ahead, take a hit."

suck suck suck, carb, inhale, suffocate, blow out massive amount of smoke, cough, repeat.

People usually say they don't get high the first time. But people usually don't take 4 huge bong hits with strong kyne bud on their first times either. They were supposed to warn me, start on light stuff, don't dive directly into a bong with strong stuff. But they were stoners, they probably forgot.

"How will I know when I'm high guys?"

"Trust us, you'll know."

"I think I'm high guys. --- ear to ear grin, aka Perma-smile, red eyes, thoughts not making sense. Where's that bird chirping coming from? Oh, that's just the CD player. ---Yeah, I'm high."

Life changed. I met my parents the next day for lunch in the city. Will they notice I'm not entirely normal? That I can't remember some stuff they told me a few second ago? Luckily they didn't notice anything, they were just glad to see me. Weekends usually became pot times. Go over to Neal's place, smoke a bowl. His birthday's coming around, maybe we'll do E for the first time.

How did it come to this? I was so innocent before coming here. Now I'm considering doing cocaine and Ecstacy? Where did I go wrong? Is it my fault? Where is there to turn now? How should I get out of this? I hate my life. These people aren't friends. They're freaks, they just want to escape their worthless existence. Somehow they convinced me to escape to nowhere along with them. Come along man, burn out with us. I've never been so alone. I've never been so scared. I can't go tell my parents, and my friends aren't really my friends anymore. The highschool crowd has all turned into strangers.

The proverbial crossroads. Insane thoughts were running through my mind. On one hand, images of my parents extremely disappoined. Forget the world, you're your own individual, who needs their approval if I'm happy? Do what you want? Am I happy?

On the other hand, stop. Get your life together, grab life by the balls and find your niche. If these people are worthless, screw them, let them rot, and be there to laugh at them when they fail and you escaped their temptation. I chose the latter. It wasn't easy, but I did. It's a lose-lose situation, either way, the future will suck.

Why did I chose the option to stop? Because Neal failed out of school after freshman year. Pot became more important than classes. You really have to try to get a .75 GPA. And I was one of his closest friends there. We were 'bong-buddies'. Wake up call, slap across the face of the reality of the situation. I was getting a second chance, virtually consequence free. I better not blow it.

Now I know what it's like to be tempted into evil. Now I know that no matter how much they try to teach you in school, there's so much that just can't be learned without experiencing it yourself. These bozo teachers, having never taken drugs, telling us that they can offer nothing. Noam Chomsky is right, "Education is a system of imposed ignornance."

Ben Franklin once said, "The road to hell is often paved with good intentions." That road is lined with high stalks of marijuana and a promise of escape. I'm just glad I got a second chance at life and happiness. The first thought that usually crosses my mind when I wake up in the morning is:

"This is your last chance. Don't blow it. Don't do something stupid. Just live a life worth living."

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