[ The notebooks are extremely personal, every one--but at a glance, they look just like research. He takes these things very personally: notes on dream symbology, insomnia, Shadow work, boogiemen from cultures all over the world. Serial killers, pedophiles, GED prep course. The usual. The notes rarely fill a whole page; he's distractable. But they're intense when he writes them, handwriting cramped and frantic. ]
Ah--I was just thinking about weed. [ Look, he's pretty cleaned up when he comes out, hair swept up out of his face with a stretch comb. He opens his hands up at his sides to show off for a second, then goes into a cabinet above his sink for an old cigar box. ] I don't really fuck with indicas, cuz I get too groggy? But this blend I get from my guy really mellows me out when I'm wound up. You should take a hit.
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Ah--I was just thinking about weed. [ Look, he's pretty cleaned up when he comes out, hair swept up out of his face with a stretch comb. He opens his hands up at his sides to show off for a second, then goes into a cabinet above his sink for an old cigar box. ] I don't really fuck with indicas, cuz I get too groggy? But this blend I get from my guy really mellows me out when I'm wound up. You should take a hit.