8 reasons weed should be legalised

This is something I’m so! Very! Passionate! About. It’s not something I have on my CV under my interests, but I sure as goddamn hell don’t see the problem with including it. Before you make any assumptions, I’m not a stoner. I’m just also not an idiot.

For any potential employers, don’t read this and think I’m a giant drug lord whose life is a mess. Instead, think that I just have common sense and good morals; just because the government profits off your alcohol and cigarette addiction doesn’t mean they’re better than any other drug. It definitely doesn’t make you a saint. It definitely, definitely, doesn’t make you better than someone who writes a post advocating the decriminalisation of marijuana.

I think it’s absurd that ‘going out for drinks’ as part of a work do is normal, but going out to  ‘bun a zoot’ as part of that work do is frowned upon (and illegal). I think it’s even more absurd that you’re probably going to be outcast if you don’t participate in the social drinking! Like me. I also find it quite ironic how people call those who smoke weed occasionally ‘druggies’, but we don’t call the occasional drinker an ‘alcoholic’? Hmm…

The stigma is real. I understand that it really only comes from the fact that weed is illegal and thus demonised; suddenly it has created an atmosphere that links the drug to dodgy street deals and DEATH, DESTRUCTION AND PRISON. That isn’t the case though, is it? We know very well that nobody has died from smoking joints everyday (I’m looking at you, benson & hedges), and nobody has been violently intoxicated and beat somebody up (I’m looking at you, Vodka and beer). You know those people who get blackout drunk but then act disgusted at the thought of weed?????? Yea.

Anyway here are some reasons weed should definitely 100% be legalised.

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6 steps to take after you’ve been friendzoned

I’m honestly sitting here trying to ignore the dull pain occurring in my arm right now, so here I am, having already failed at Blogtober, with another post.

So, girls and guys, we all know that unrequited anything is horrible, it’s a bitch, it’s the worst. Unrequited love, unrequited hatred, unrequited anything. I’m going to tell you what to do after being confined to the dreaded friendzone, or, more broadly, how to get over someone you never really had.

In all honesty, I don’t like guys. Let me clarify: I’m very much heterosexual, but it’s hard for me to like people.  I’m not saying I have super high standards, I’m saying that in my entire 22 years I haven’t really liked liked people. In school, I was never interested in guys or relationships and I would shut down any flirting straight away because the guys around me were lame. I’m not head over heels about anyone at the moment, except Bill Skarsgard obv, and I don’t really interact with men (or anyone). So considering that, you’d better believe that if I like you, it’s a miracle. So if I know I could get over being friendzoned, so can you.

Now, you might read that and wonder why I would even consider giving relationship advice, but despite my lack of experience, people always wish they had listened to me sooner. I think a contributing factor is that I’m extra careful (cough – anxiety) and it’s not worth getting hurt over someone that way. I’m not hugely familiar with the whole confessing-your-undying-love-and-being-rejected thing because that would mean multiple instances of having undying love and then confessing it, but know that I definitely know how to deal with it.

So, here’s what to do when you’re thrown in the friendzone of somebody you’re madly in love with (or just crushing on):

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Always playing on my mind [10 songs I’m listening to right now]

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I have taken a break from watching youtube videos of Scott’s alpha roar on loop. That one scene when he roars at Aidan, anyone????? Amazing.

Anyway, aside from doing that I’m also basically listening to the same songs on repeat whilst writing. Is it a good idea to play these songs on repeat? Probably not. I know I’ll regret it a few months from now when I try to listen to them again. I also have been making the rookie mistake of taking too many benzos before important events – like job interviews. The mistake being that taking them actually has the opposite effect of what I want them to have. Sure, I’m relaxed. But I’m a little too relaxed. Like ‘Haha. Yeah so then I – sorry, wait what was I just saying?’ relaxed.

Anyway, as per usual when I do this type of post, I am sharing a very important part of me and my everyday life; here’s what I’m currently listening to:

Some type of love – Charlie Puth

Apparently I really like Charlie Puth. Who knew? I’ve had this on repeat for god knows how long, I actually forgot other songs existed for a while. First I had Attention on loop. Then I found this. Ma boi Charles spitting straight truth.

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Sonnet 18, or an ode to benzos

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate

Thou calmest me most

When thou art blue –

Like the sky that houses the sun.

 

Ah the sun; so warming, joyful, happy

But sometimes scorching all my worries

Burning them down to ashes

Their fumes wafting their way back into me;

Like a phoenix, the ashes resurrect,

Bursting upwards from the ground

And slapping me straight in the goddamn face

As the summer reminds me;

you must be happy.

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Taking off my hijab? [NOT clickbait]

 

I’m taking off my hijab.

 

I don’t know when, but it’s probably definitely happening and sometime very soon. I’m not going to make a big deal out of it, I’m just going to do it. And you’ll see me out with my scraggly hair and old highlights because I haven’t had a haircut in five years.

After I speak to my old Quran teacher tho.

I’m gonna make this clear though: I know the hijab is compulsory. And I am still very much Muslim.

I haven’t just decided that it isn’t compulsory anymore. I know it is. But I’m not ready, and for the past couple of years I’ve just been trying to convince myself that I made the right decision. And now I’m finally ready to admit that I’m not happy in it.

Get ready for a long read because apparently I have to EXPLAIN EVERY SINGLE PERSONAL LIFE CHANGING PERSONAL PERSONAL DECISION to everyone.

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Who’s your daddy

Me, I’m your daddy.

Guys, I’m here to save your lives. It’s time to get psyched.

I mean, this is about helping you save your skin and your wallet at the same time. It’s about a face mask. A homemade face mask.

I’m not just raving about this because it’s cheap, even though it is in fact dirt cheap. I’ve gone through countless Lush masks (the fresh-faced ones), L’Oreal masks and Dr Organic masks. But none of them really work for me like this one, made entirely of things you should have in your kitchen already (if you’re brown, you will definitely have all these things).

Buckle up and sit tight, because I’m about to blow your mind. Here’s what you’ll need:

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Anywhere I go I make the gang go [Wales journal]

PSA: My heart belongs to North Wales. This is a long overdue post.

I always say I hate the shithole in which I live, but that I would never leave London unless I was going to Finland/somewhere in Scandinavia. Well, except I ABSOLUTELY WOULD!!!! To North Wales.

The last time we went to south Wales everybody was racist, so bye.

 

I love Snowdonia. I love Conwy. I love Llandudno. I love the people, the accent, the air. I am not a people person really, but everyone here is so nice!!! I love it!! It makes me wanna be a better person. I love that nobody litters. That actually warmed my cold, dead (joking, it’s warm, bloody, and very much beating) heart. I didn’t see that many bins, but nobody threw anything on the floor (except a couple banana skins on the mountain, hashtag slow release energy). I love that everywhere you go, you can see mountains. I love all the streams and I love that there are sheep literally EVERYWHERE. I’m not a beach person. But I am a mountain person. I am definitely a free-roaming-animals-in-the-street person.

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We don’t ignite

‘Hmmm,’ she wonders, her fingers hovering over the trackpad of her brand new, photogenic rose gold Macbook. In front of her, to the right, are three pots of succulents, carefully placed next to a photo frame with nothing but the words ‘Carpe Diem’ in a curly font. She studies the mason jar on her left, filled halfway with a strawberry milkshake, carefully mixed to the exact shade of millennial pink, to complement the walls of her room, dotted with various edgy photographs in white frames.

She hesitates as she skims through the tabs open on safari.

‘5 favourite drugstore products’

‘Makeup Revolution: Naked dupe?’

‘Living with anxiety’

’10 Lipsticks every girl needs in her makeup bag’

‘What’s in my handbag?’

‘Screw it,’ she thinks out loud. Oozing with confidence and determination, she clicks on the tab that reads “Write new post”.

10 beauty hacks

She sighs out loud, relief and pride exiting her black-choker adorned throat.


Ahem. Sorry, that was a little rude.

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I’ll be me [Mental Health – Part 1]

Here’s a long post, read it if you have time. Like 5 minutes, realistically.

Also: If you can figure out what’s written on that notepad, I’ll dedicate a post to you.

So.

What am I doing these days.

Well.

First of all, I’m going to try my hardest not to incorporate my infamous self depreciating humour into this post, even though that is my biggest coping mechanism.

These days I’m reading, writing, researching, and listening to a lot of James Bay.

And I’m thinking.

I’m doing a lot of thinking, but I’m also doing a lot of …just … not thinking.

In other words: I’m keeping myself busy.

I try not to write about mental health, even though I should, because almost every blog I visit has posts about ‘dealing with depression’ or ‘dealing with anxiety’ or just ‘mental health’. And it makes me wonder how many of these people really do suffer from these issues, or if they’re just self diagnosed. As someone who has had doctors referring them to therapists and pestering them to take anti-depressants, it’s a bit … I don’t know. Annoying. It’s the reason I don’t enjoy speaking about my own mental health. I’m fine, but I’ll never deny that anxiety is my biggest enemy.

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