PLASTIC PILL ORGANIZERS

she was a true pothead. she grew it herself and had her friends look after her plants while she was away. she asked other growers for tips & tricks, even labeled her seeds and experimented with cross-breeding. she rationed out her year in order to be self sufficient, had daily portions seperated out into day-of-the-week plastic pill organizers. any not hit could be rolled over to the next day or saved for the second half of the year, or given as gifts. her boyfriend's sister watered her plants when she was at her parents' in return for stash. they all thought this a clever trade and completed the tasks with an exaggerated and unnecessary: ZEAL!

she figured it natural to be obsessed with something, preferably not a person, those kinds of attachments made her puke. the experience of actually being in such a relationship with a person had more than once sent her over the edge. she had infact many times been diagnosed with clinical depression when in secret she knew it was only heartbreak. no more of that, she thinks as she tokes up. thus she had been medicated her entire life, as a child on pharmaceuticals, as an adult on her own garden specialty.

do you realize? asked a friend of hers one time
that we are the first generation to be raised on pharmaceuticals? i mean, who knows what the future holds for us.

at the time she thought he had specifically meant in terms of health, as in, who knows what the future holds for us and our neurological systems? but in hindsight the statement was much broader than that, and she wondered, what does the future hold for us? as she slipped slowly into a hazey oblivion.