/lit/ - Literature

>>20156006
Every time I smoke weed it's like an exceptionally talkative apparition-slash-clone-of-myself appears next to me, and this phantom does not shut up, ever, until I am sober. This phenomenon doesn't seem to happen to my friends, who mostly get very tired when they smoke, and who look at me funny when I say I can't sleep if I'm stoned. Without fail, this personification of my internal monologue will eventually begin pummeling me with insults and downer facts about the state of the world, and I have to sit there and listen to myself ramble, regretting ever toking up in the first place.