I once smoked weed out of a bong in Canada. I had no euphoria feeling. No mood change. But it really did do something to me.
People laughed and pointed at me. “Paul’s really high,” they said. I tried to reply, but my words came out weirdly. So I stopped talking. I just sat there, silent, as the situation slowly grew more uncomfortable. Eventually everyone went inside. Silently I followed them. The feeling reminded me of being the autistic loser back at school; the weird guy. I hated it. I lay down on the couch and pretended to sleep. Meanwhile my bowels were doing a slow skip rope routine without my consent. I wondered if I would shit myself.
I overheard people talking about me. “Wow, he’s really out of it. I wish he was awake. Imagine the kind of profound wisdom you would say if you were that high”. All these people were cool, god dammit. This drug reminded me that I was not.
Eventually I got up. A housemate led me back to my room. And then, on top of everything, I couldn’t sleep. Weed is supposed to help you sleep, and it didn’t work for me.
All in all, I rate my experience as 0 out of 10. But would try again.