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Introductory Note My name is Matthew Frederic McCoun, I live in Issaquah, Washington a small suburb about 20 minutes out of Seattle. This book is a memoir to my roller coaster ride of an addiction with Marijuana and the drugs stemming off of my trials. The intent is not to promote cannabis usage or any drug usage of that matter, but rather to educate those who are currently using. The descriptions of smoking may seem glorified, but I am speaking the truth on how I envisioned it to be. I know this book alone is not enough to change the world, but I truly hope that my story is something that teenagers can draw strength to quit from. I am one of the lucky ones who realized what was slowly happening to everything about myself as a result of the habitual usage, and got out before much damage was done. My words are meant to inspire, inform, and hopefully incite questions of self evaluation and spark a realization of what is actually taking place for those who cannot notice it on their own. The perspective in which I attempted to write this is first the description of how I viewed what was taking place at the time, the and prestige that comes while it is taking place in order to relate to those who view it the way I used to. Then I will give my opinion looking back on it, relating my opinion of the past with my opinion of present with connections that will hopefully spark the realization of why everyone regrets it afterward, but love it while doing it. Chapter 1 It was in 7th grade when it all began with a simple yes or no question. I was sitting with some long time friends of mine at their house in Renton along with my brother. Thinking about the usual topics on a adolescents mind. In my own little world pondering my budding interest in girls, my soccer and baseball teams, and anything else that tickled my fancy at the time, unaware of what was lurking in my future just minutes ahead. My brother to my left, and another set of brothers lounging to my right it was just an ordinary Friday night. Being a “badass” at that time for me consisted of tee-peeing and smashing mailboxes, the normal experimentation with mischief that most kids my age normally took part in. But what separated me from the majority of my peers for the next three years of my life opened the trailer door and walked inside. A familiar kid approaches the center of our vision, pauses, and as if in slow motion he recites “uhh does anyone want to go smoke weed?” I did not even think it over, the instant the two long time frends of mine said “yea” I said “sure” and followed their lead out the door. I was always a part of what “in crowd” did and I assume it was a natural reaction to follow what my friends were doing so it was not even pondered. The group of 5 boys stopped as they reached a 3 foot ditch right out in front of the trailer but shaded away from anyone else’s view by a gathering of large trees. The kid with the weed also pulled out a metal pipe about 2 inches long with a psychedelic design rapped around the pipe in between the minute bowl piece and mouthpiece. He loaded what were just were green leaves to my knowledge of the time, little did I know the power that was within only unlocked by a flame. The loader of the bowl took out his lighter, held it up to the bowlpiece, and started sucking. The bowl instantly became an incandescent orange glow that engulfed my vision, intensely focused on the smokers every move I studied the proper technique on how to operate this object. He stopped sucking and exhaled the smoke immediately followed by a bellowing thunderous cough and continued for what seemed minutes and in his frenzy he passed the pipe to his left. The next toker was my brother, in awe of the calm and collected manner in which he took the pipe into his hands and held it up to his mouth which made me question if this was his first time or not. He did the exact procedures as the boy with the weed and let out a roaring cough simultaneously as he exhaled and then mere thoughts became a reality. He handed me the pipe and I struggled to find the correct grip and positioning so I could light the bowl while holding the pipe. Seconds seemed like minutes as I held this foreign object in my hand, and then at once the sparks of both the lighter and my deep interest and obsession with pot were instigated. I held the lighter up to the already charcoal colored bowl with an orange glow beneath the surface and started inhaling. I did not know how long to inhale nor when the effects would begin, after a few moments of sucking a unfamiliar burning started in my throat and I stopped sucking and joined my brother in an orchestra of coughs.
Approximate Word count = 3360
Approximate Pages = 13.4
(250 words per page double spaced)
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