Well, it appears as though there are some who doubt that I ever smoked balsa wood.
Let me tell you something: I don't need your CRAP after everything I've been
through.
The peer pressure... The cool kids smoking balsa out behind the cafeteria...
The late nights, and the even later mornings.
Waking up in a haze, with the only clue to the previous night's activities being a
three-foot long, four-figure receipt from Home Depot.
The fights, the divorce, the setup, the bust...
The spins, the shakes, and the mad balsa lust...
But, go ahead: Mock my pain. Mock, as you will, this survivor.
Mock if you like, but I'm over it now. Ever since being contacted by the "Just say
NO to balsa" foundation, which specializes in helping people to stop smoking the wood
of the tropical Ochroma pyramidale tree, I've been able to put down the lumber and
move on with my life.
I feel great, but it has made me less interesting at parties. I just feel so
much more comfortable when I have a flaming block of ultra-light boat-building material
in my hands. I like to maintain that I was only a social balsa smoker, but there are
those who would disagree, hence the intervention.
But, as I say, I'm OK now. Haven't looked back. I don't need balsa anymore. I don't
need that junk, don't need that smack, don't need the balsa monkey on my back.
Maybe it's because I started snorting sawdust. Balsa was just the gateway wood, the
natural evil they neglect to teach you about in school.
Snorting sawdust is actually much worse, as you do some pretty stupid things when
you're hard up. I was at a friend's house, and hadn't had a fix in a few hours. I
was in a cold sweat, my stomach was turning, and I couldn't see straight. He left
the room for a minute, and I made straight for the hamster cage that I had been eyeballing
the entire time.
When he came back, I was passed out on his couch with a few woodchips lining my nose.
My friend was confused, but not as much as that poor hamster.
Oh, the dark, dark days behind me...
The dark, dark days ahead of me...
I'm doing the best that I can. Do your mocking voices drown out my cry for help?