I recently went on a journey to the southwest.
I had never seen a desert before, unless it was in the movies.
To see the actual desert was a bucket list occasion. It wasn’t anything prefer I expected. There were about a million colors plus lovely markings in the desert plus mountains that were all around us. The only thing that bothered me was that the hotel I was staying in accepted the use of marijuana as long as it was outside. I had never used marijuana, but I kept hearing the other guests say that they were self-medicating. I consistently thought that self-medicating meant you were having a drink before bed. One young lady told me she had a medical marijuana card when she used to reside in the Northeast. Since moving to the southwest, though, her doctor told her she no longer needed a medical marijuana card. They legalized both medical marijuana and recreational marijuana in this state. It seemed strange to me that there were so many people in this region that needed medical marijuana to get through their lives each day. Self-medication was the only way these people seemed to be able to survive. I believed they were self-medicating with marijuana when they sat on their patio for about 10 minutes, then went back inside. However, about fifteen minutes later, when they were out smoking again, I had my doubts about whether this was medical marijuana or recreational marijuana. The odor of the marijuana was making me lightheaded, so I was pretty sure they had something wrong with them if they saw nothing wrong with putting up with that stench. I laughed at myself, recalling the days back when I was growing up and how marijuana was a form of protest, plus every one of us were all hippies.