Tuesday, April 23, 2024

It's not supposed to hurt. Part 6: When you have a crush on your English teacher (2/2)

Alrighty then. Fuck, my brain hurts... Since I gave up weed, I smoke at least three packages of Chesterfield Blue per day and I would lie if I told you that quitting weed is easy. Next to weed I also tempered out a few pharmaceutical bonbons that lately brought about a mix of cramps and constraints in my lower jaw that sometimes made me want to kill myself. Almost askethically, aside from the mentioned cancer sticks, I'm now coping with highly uncomfortable depressions and I'm overwhelmed, almost flabergasted, with the feelings and thoughts that come with the cold turkey. Those my little demons definitely don't stem from the weed but from the missing pills my head is longing for. But I'm still contemplating going back to weed due to those hellish depressions that I can't get rid off. Plus, weed used to shut off my brain and helped me fall asleep. The sleeping pills that I still use as on-demand medicines help me through the night, but they are far too strong; my heart beats like a fucking Black Metal drummer and I constantly swallow water to give my tortured body something healthy to work with. In a nutshell, life sucks these days and since I cannot sleep and my friends are gone, I hope writing helps. So, let's give it a try...

Before I start, I'd love to apologize to those who read the manuscript of the last post before my best friend did the peer review. With him I usually go through stuff that is absolutely crazy and can be too much for beginners, however patient and truth-loving the reader. In other words, sometimes my writings appear as if Hitler wrote it. That happens a lot when I'm manic and in future events I would love to show you even the deepest of my thoughts--just not like Hitler did. My friend and I decided to teach madness gently. So we had to delete a few lines that were inappropriate and simply not funny, at least for people who don't know me. But there is something that I would like to write down in advance, whether you like it or not...

I hope you've read my past posts and still feel like reading, cuz I tried really hard to keep my fucked-up world view appear funny and entertaining. I sometimes do that by showcasing foul and provocative language, making remarks that are not always polite--locker room talk, Donald Trump would say. And here I need to clarify why I do that. In my opinion, cherry picking won't bring me or anyone honest in this world any further. And only listening to the things, thoughts and ideas we wanna hear is just that--cherry picking. To understand how other people think, we sometimes have to confront ourselves with not so pleasant thoughts and--admit it--we often turn away when people say things that we don't want to hear; we're being lazy and ignorant. So, face it, the big problems we're dealing with today are not easy to explain; and the same is to say about the solutions we have to find. We're all, to a certain extend, facing hardship in life and we want simple solutions to complicated problems; we want easy answers to hard questions; but that is just wishful thinking. Life can be a pain in the arse. And so we have phenomena like Donald Trump in the US and right-wing populists like Herbert Kickl in Austria who--through fear-mongering--preach simple but understandable racism and xenophobia to people in rural areas where there are almost no foreigners, black people, turks, or whatever present. But those people nowadays make up a third of the voters in our country; and you're fooling yourself if you think that we can ignore these manipulated 33 percent any longer. It makes sense to neglect the interests of the politicians those people vote for, since they are assholes, but we mustn't neglect the real and understandable problems these 33 percent of the voters might have to deal with,... and--as much as you would love to do differently--we have to have our serious conversations with each and everyone of them if we don't want our world views to polarize. Just so much.

Now, locker room talk is not a right-winger phenomenon. Boys do it all the time. We never perform it in offices, schools, universities, family meetings or feminist meetings--thank god (if that fucker exists); we hardly ever print it on our shirts, but we always let it out it in bars, on the streets, in warehouses, on construction sides, during our lunch breaks, during our cigarette breaks, during sex, during our strolls through the park, when we pass around a sativa joint in a sausage-party-like setting, and of course, in the locker room. But girls, don't be mad at us if we do that, cuz here is how it works--no mansplaining: When we average boys talk openly among men only, we let our hormones do the talking; we let it all out; we send our demons further South AND THEN walk towards nice ladies we wish to chat with in the North and try to be as kind as possible cuz we think that you're far more sensitive than we are; we simply don't want to be the assholes we can be, right in front of you. If you want an asshole as a lover, fine; forbid locker room talk; I'm convinced he'll let it out on you. But don't fool yourself into thinking that nice guys don't talk like that; they sometimes do... and every dude who alleges that he doesn't and would never do is a hypocrite.

In 2016, the famous pussy grabber video appeared only days before the election in the US and Democrats back then thought that this "scandal" would be a game changer in the elections to come. The fact that the appearance of the video in mainstream media didn't have an impact on the election pretty much proves my point. Donald Trump, back then, did exactly what I explained to you right now; and no one truly gave a fuck but a few hat knitters who made a profit of this fly-by-night left-wing campaign.

Okay, that felt like yelling. How are you? Still reading? Because I am still asking myself the question whether I shall publish these lines or not. But my friends always say that I can't be anyone's friend, so I'll have to risk it, even if it means you won't read me any longer. Well, now it's out. Enjoy the read.

 

When you have a crush on your English teacher (2/2)

Release date: 27th of April 2024

It's not supposed to hurt. Part 5: When you have a crush on your English teacher (1/2)

 Hi guys,

long time no see. We have April 21, 2024 and I finally feel eager to write again. Before I started writing I did myself a favor and deleted all posts from the past that turned out to be bullshit. Fortunately, as the stats on my profile show, no one read that BS in the first place. What's left is my post series "It's not supposed to hurt" that I want to continue at least until shit gets book length. Those posts are far from scientific, but they're at least comprehensible throughout the read; The shrinks who truly want to help me will love it and my friends who take their time to read my posts will understand me even more than they already do. Motivation and reason enough to continue writing. If no one will read my work, my real friends will; so it's worth the effort. Anyway...

To start with, I gave up weed entirely. Eventually I figured for myself that the drug wouldn't help people like me in the long run and it no longer made sense talking myself into believing that I could use weed like on-demand medicines, because in order to mitigate my depressions I would permanently have to try new strains, contact many dealers on the black market and accept many side effects that would make my illness even worse. Doctors constantly asked me to quit smoking weed and I finally followed their advise. I briefly amended past posts in order not to give you the wrong ideas about weed and linked a few videos below that helped me personally to understand why I obviously jumped to wrong conclusions when I experimented with the drug. If you are a regular (for whatever reason), make sure to check out the links, just to be up-to-date about your shrine. Can't hurt.

The story I am about to tell you lies about 12 years in the past. Back then I used to study at a department for translation studies in my home town where I'd be trained to become a decent English and Spanish translator. But let me type down a little prequel first...

I already tried out comparable studies in the same department about 23 years ago, right after getting my permission to study, when I finished AHS Gymnasium (more or less High School and College prep in the US or maybe Comprehensive Schools on the island). Back then (22 years ago), my Sehr Gut ("Excellent", A) at the final exam in AHS Gymnasium ("Excellent", A) served as a qualification for STEOP classes (Entry and orientation phase) at the translation department. In this period of my life,... around the millenium year, I started lazy, probably wasn't ready for studying yet, and on top of that, didn't have the money, didn't yet realize how much I love language learning, then tried studying philosophy instead until I eventually decided to get a job in order to get other problems in my life sorted out. It would take me about a decade until I get another chance to study languages.

But first things first. In 2002, my father died. My father's death was an event that I appeared to accept easier than anyone else in my family. It later turned out that it got me the most and years would pass by until I started mourning and crying. I chose quite a different path when handling such losses and I would soon be misunderstood in my family since I chose the same approach when many of my relatives died the following years. "It's your grandmother's funeral and you are not crying, instead smiling as if you won the lottery. What is wrong with you? You didn't love your grandmother! It played into your hands that she died! You brought only problems into your grandmother's house and you're partially responsible that she's dead."... these things my anti-semite pseudo grandfather would say at a family meeting where we had to discuss who inherits what; my father didn't leave last will and testament (heart-attack by the age of 44).

By the way, just to get a few corpses out of the cellar (as we say in our country), the reason why I smiled at my grandmother's funeral, is, because I thought about the good times we had...

 

...I mourn for those who never knew you...

 

Lyrics quote from "Rose of Sharon"
by Killswitch Engage
from the album "The End of Heartache" (2004)

 

I remember leaving that particular family meeting totally perplexed; didn't want any money from those jerks in the first place. It wouldn't have solved the problems that I had at the time. But my loving mother and sister thought different and took me to court against other not necessarily related, so-called family members, in order to get me a fair share of what's left of the corpses. Many years later we had things sorted out and I suddenly had about fifty thousand bucks on my account--fifty thousand euros to change my so far fairly damaged life. I'm sure my father would have wanted me to spend it on something that makes me happy, so I decided to sell my cozy red Clio and from then on drove my bicycle to the university until I got my bachelors degree.

Okay, almost back to the main story. We're getting there...
I suddenly felt rich and could afford the studies that I always wanted to soak up. When I proudly came back to the department in 2010, the department changed a few rules and my English grade from ten years ago would no longer serve as qualification for the STEOP classes. They now had entrance exams for every language that I wanted to study. In my case, English and Spanish. I used to think that my English remained "excellent" throughout the years and before the exam I spent two years in Spanish classes for children in arts school. In other words, I was confident that I would pass both exams immediately.... but, of course, I failed twice. Welcome to reality, Michael.

The next entrance exams would be scheduled in the beginning of the next semester and since I failed miserably the first time I tried, I wanted to be properly prepared the next time I enter the dragon's cave. But to be honest, I still had no clue how to prepare best. The first problem was that I had to finance life during my wait for the second chance. I mean, as I've told you, I had fifty thousand bucks on my account. But in perspective, that's not much, considering that I would need money for at least three years cost of living. If I wanted to study full time--and I'll later explain why I had to--there would be no further income in the meantime; and an average working-class-hero in Austria needs at least twenty thousand euros per year just to make ends meet, due to high rent costs (among other things). So, in order not to lose too much money while waiting for the exam, I felt obliged to work my ass off at Frank Stronach's Magna Steyr assembly line.

The job at Franky's wasn't satisfying at all; the opposite was the case; I hated it. Low wages for unexperienced newcomers in the business, hardly any bonuses for monotonous sometimes aching hard work while constantly on the clock, two or three five-minutes breaks to pee in a ten-hour working day, one mean guy among my colleagues that I couldn't get rid off, and worst, shift work that would make me lose my weekends--since I needed to manage my sleeping periods throughout the weekend in order to remain fit in the right cycle of shifts the following work week. I'd rather I had done a different job these eventually 18 months, but at the time I had no valuable qualifications or degrees earned that would bring about better perspectives or at least a humane full-time job. Of those there still appear to be only a few if you haven't managed to finish an apprenticeship or the like. Also, I'd rather I had done a different job these eventually 18 months, where I'd spend my well-deserved weekends going out, dancing in metal bars and in between pop metal chics in the toilets, like smart, educated fuckers in my age used to do. But I was neither smart nor educated.

The reason why I didn't call in sick a single time during that useless phase of my life is because there were two motivators that drove me. The first motivator was my wish to study languages--good choice. The second trigger was what I permanently got to hear and read--in a nutshell, "Geht's der Wirtschaft gut, geht's uns allen gut." Keep that bullshit and the like stuck in your skull instead of a real brain and you may never understand what drives poor people to do shitty work in the first place. But don't get me wrong. There are millions of jobs out there that are hard, that have to be done and that anyone eventually has to perform. Producing cars is none of them. However,  if your working life is hard you should at least have something else in your life that gives you reason to live, such as a loving partner that eases your pain by hugging you, kissing you, talking to you, whispering kind words into your ears, you name it.

After three trials in a row I had finally managed to pass both the English and Spanish exam at the department. When I soon found out that even my studies would be hard (because of several other, more rewarding reasons), I had no such treasures like a loving partner in advance; so I made them up. I used my precious fantasies to escape reality.

And that brings us to the story that I actually wanted to talk about. Sorry for the delay. As I said, we're almost there.
The second problem that I had when I tried to prepare for the exams was that I had comparatively no time. I had a few hours every weekend that I used for reading. So in this mentioned 18 months I read A book. "Angels and Demons" by Dan Brown. Nice stuff, but I didn't like the ending. Anyway, that was it. That was my preparation for the English exam; and to this day, I still have no idea how I got the positive grade. For the Spanish exam I had invited a Spanish student who studied master classes in the same department. I found her advertisement for Spanish tutorials glued to the department's pinboard and gave her a ring.

She soon visited me in my studio on a hot summer evening. She had about 160 centimeters in height, wore her dark-brown hair long, and the tight curry-colored clothes she wore made her nipples [above her almost invisible breasts] visible and showed almost everything I wanted to know about her sweet, tiny, apple-shaped ass. The moment I saw her I felt like drawing her into my cave and make brutal anal sex with her all day, or at least the usual 25 seconds. Anyway, instead I offered her a cup of tea and gave her some compliments about the color of her dress; she had a beautiful smile. She then took out her books and taught me everything I needed to know in order to do a good job on the exam. In fact, she taught the entire grammar stuff so well, I realized that it would take me a great deal of time and work to reach her level of knowledge in Spanish learning. I therefore also assumed that I was out of her league and thought that guys like me wouldn't get laid by such attractive and smart women--and of those we had many at the department...

 ...although they hardly ever dressed as hot as my Spanish tutor.
When I started going to classes, as I mentioned, about 12 years ago, there sat about 80 to 90 percent women in the class room. The rest were college boys, most of them about ten years younger than me. But all of us testosterone producers sooner or later found a way how to not get an erection during class time. I assume, when I say "we", that WE just focused on our actual studies and if we wanted to stare at people, we stared at our teachers. They, just like the younger student chics, most of the time wore wide jumpers, fancy looking, long skirts, buns that made them look like hobos and--most effective--they didn't wear make-up. When younger female teachers came to class early in the morning they presented faces that reminded me of krampus masks rather than shiny doll faces that average pervs like me know from Naugthy America doctor and massage porn. So, the outer appearance most women created helped a lot to not get randy throughout the classes.

But then SHE entered the class room...

 

When you have a crush on your English teacher (1/2)

She, let's name her Wacholder, because just calling her by her real name gives me a boner, so let's call her Wacholder,... she was different. Yes, she adapted to the look-like-shit dress code of the others, but she appeared cute and fantastic anyway. I couldn't help but falling in love with her from the first moment I saw her (💖). Unlike me, she had a very silent but sweet voice; like Minnie Mouse... and she looked like a daisy. Her bun upon her head looked stupid, I admit. But not wearing make-up didn't make her look less attractive. I could imagine waking up next to her without screaming hysterically or calling the police due to illegal eyesore provocation. No,.. If she was MY girl, I would want to kiss her good morning every morning no matter what facial condition she conjured up with her hangovers...

She taught first semester English and culture classes. That is a combination of advanced grammar lectures, writing skills, learning words, pronunciation and basic history of predominantly English-speaking cultures--in her case, since she's American with Irish roots, US-American and a bit of Irish history; quite interesting.

Wacholder's lectures/courses were really great. In the beginning of my studies I very often couldn't follow lectures of her English-speaking male colleague, let's name him Crank, who, unlike Wacholder, used thousands of online sources to teach basic stuff about the same topics Wacholder taught. Crank's courses brought about too much input for people like me, who hadn't studied in ages. Wacholder's lectures/courses on the other hand were visibly organized step-by-step, using only few sources to make lessons clear. I mean, I learned much more in Crank's classes than in all the other classes combined, but most of the stuff I managed to understand from his classes were extracurricular issues that wouldn't help me pass his exams--the so-called progress checks. When I first came to Wacholder's classes in the second year of my studies, I soon was positive that I would get a positive grade by the end of the semester. I was wrong, but let me continue next time.

Til then, as we say in my home village, have a nice kukuruz work week.

Yours,

Kulla 👅




Media influence:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0m44PPsCc8

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_5aFAsnsTE&t=1086s

Wednesday, July 5, 2023

It's not supposed to hurt. Part 4: Choosing to be single, waiting for wounds to heal

 

...I close my eyes and drift away

over the fear that I will never find a way to heal my soul

and I will wander till the end of time

torn away from you...

 Lyrics quote from "My Heart is Broken"
by Evanescence
from the album "Evanescence" (2011)

The story I'm about to tell you lies about 16 years in the past. Back then I led a hollywood life that you couldn't imagine. I was frontman of a quite respected metal band, went to art school to train myself in jewellery, painting and arts history and once in a blue moon popped girls I had met at my concerts. Bruce Wayne couldn't have performed any better. Best days of my life, because I hadn't really fallen in love yet and my experience with women so far made clear that drowning in pussy would be my prefered way of committing suicide. [later engraved on the tomb stone "Died doin' what he loved. Peace mothafuckas]". But I was busy being a rockstar and didn't perceive much of other people's problems and realities. My ego was driven by the people who supported all my creative work--and back in the day I had plenty who supported me. Don't ask me why.

In that years I thought I had climbed the Maslow pyramid with ease, because literally everything appeared to work out for me personally. The problem later was that I thought I could get everything I wanted if I just wanted it bad enough; and that didn't work out when I fell in love with this refreshing Viennese sensation of a woman...


... some just want everything

but everything means nothing

if I ain't got you...


Lyrics quote from "If I ain't got you"
by Alicia Keys
from the album "The Diary of Alicia Keys" (2003)

... She was about one year younger than me, had dark brown eyes, wore her dark hair long, painted her face like Masuimi Max (just cuter and younger), and was easy to chat with on a platform named MySpace. (MySpace was pretty much a playful predecessor of Facebook, just so much cooler to play with for kids in my age. Anyway;) the two of us eventually met personally for the first time when I came back from a trip to Helsinki,  Finnland. The evening I flew back to Vienna a US metalcore band performed twenty minutes from the airport... and that, in my view, was an ideal prolonged vacation. Because metal concerts were my home area back then.

So the atmosphere was fantastic. Nothing says more "Let's get laid" than a metalhead like me who meets a Viennese chic at a concert. If weddings in Las Vegas were as awesome as rock concerts in Vienna, I would have married already. But they aren't, and so a mix of melodic death metal and hardcore in my ear held my head high when we hugged each other to say hello. She asked me if I was exhausted from the flight, I nodded and she promptly ran for two big cups of white whine spritzer. And I was exhausted, and a big cup of white wine spritzer was exactly what I needed in that moment. But she turned out to be a catch for many other reasons...

As in our MySpace chats, she was easy to talk with that night. But the first thing she wanted to discuss, while we were sitting two-some on the floor next to the bar, was her approach to relationships. In that moment I didn't feel like listening, because I wanted to start something planless from scratch; and so I interrupted her monologue about relationships by kissing her as passionately as possible--in order to make my intensions clear. She went with it and we would most of the time just sit somewhere and kiss ...and every time I wanted to tell her something, she would interrupt me with another long-lasting kiss. But that was our first night together: an evening to celebrate life as it is.

The next  month or so we would talk a lot via phone and discuss everything in detail that young souls like ourselves had on our minds: deep conversations and lots of stuff to laugh about. It was the only period of my life where I'd actually enjoy long conversations on the phone before going to bed. Sometimes I even fell asleep during the calls, so comfy and cherished I felt when talking to that girl.

 

...Now as I lay me down to sleep, this I pray, that you will hold me dear

Though I'm far away, I'll whisper your name into the sky

and I will wake up happy...

 

Lyrics quote from "As I lay me down"
by Sophie B. Hawkins
from the album "Whaler" (1994)

 

But meetings were far too scarce. Unfortunately, one of the two of us would always have to invest a few hours drive to reach the other person's city and so we would only meet two times in my studio, once at one of my own concerts in Vienna, and once at another concert. With time she for herself then figured out that a relationship with me wouldn't make sense. I, hopeful as I used to be, had to figure that out the hard way since she just tempered out our calls instead of "breaking-up": Less and less she would call me and eventually she wouldn't respond to my calls either.  That's why I one day panically canceled arts classes kinda illegally and drove my Audi to Vienna in order to surprise-visit her at work. When I stood at the reception desk of her working place, the receptionist ushered me out of the facility immediately and minutes later my assumed love interest texted me "STALKER". I felt missunderstood... and like shit, but afterwards accepted that future endeavors would be useless. She obviously never really felt the way I wanted her to feel about me. Anyway, I would never see her or hear from her ever again.

You'd imagine that if you never fuck someone and if that fuckable person never tells you that she loves you, you'd get over her with ease since nothing actually happened. But me, I reached a level where I'd fantasize to spend the rest of our young lives together and every plan B would be worth- and useless in comparison to the millions of A plans I had in mind with her (or rather with her in my mind).

This entire experience made me change completely. I suddenly felt as if I needed to be as self-sufficient as possible and therefore tore down everything I religiously had built up around me: I stopped meeting with friends (especially pot smokers by the way) and kept distance from mother and family by constantly performing as an angry, frustrated and hateful child, I assume. A year later my beloved metal band split--certainly because of quarrels I had with the other guys of the band. Eventually I got in a fight with our bass player, my best friend with whom I shared a studio. We soon stopped living together and departed with many things left unspoken. I was suddenly all alone; and however hard it felt, in that situation I thought everything I did was right...

...and I'd walk desperately to find a better life without anyone else in this world.

The sad part of the story is that this girl was a pot chic. There were many signs that I ignored and that I eventually perceived as such when I'd spend the months after the stalker-accusation pondering in solitude about what went awry and what I may have done wrong or something...

I then remembered situations when she was in a bad mood, for instance, when she visited me and complained that I didn't have weed at home. Also, in one of our last calls she would explain in between that she likes hashish though it pushes, though it puts some pressure on you, and stuff. I ignored such stories at the time. Whenever she wanted to tell me about her wisdom about drugs, like in that case, I would divert to another topic. It seems as if I simply wasn't open for drugs back then since I rather orientated on an ascetic life. The only thing I did excessively those years was playing basketball, so drugs wouldn't come in handy. 

In sum, maybe that girl that I thought I'd love so much was on a different path... and drugs would be part of her life during a time in which I simply wasn't compatible with her, due to my contrary view. And maybe my reaction to her pro-drug views was something she couldn't handle. I understand it today but couldn't make sense of it back then. I changed into the person she could have had discussions with, even about drugs, but ages later. To become the accessible man she would have loved, I had to ruin my life first.

After this long-distance pseudo-relationship with who I thought would be the woman of my life (not counting my mom) I would never be the same person again. In the summer to come, I dated another awesome, hot chic (pot chic on occasion, by the way) with whom I really enjoyed sex. She knew me from my concerts of course. When I first saw her I thought I was out of her league, but fortunately she had a thing for ugly metal musicians, so I got lucky. However, in an honest conversation, I had to tell her that I wasn't over that Viennese chic. She appeared a bit puzzled then but made clear that she'd get over me by cheating on me with another metalhead. Our affair (she wasn't quite single yet) ended with a fight; from then on she hated me. In retrospective, I get her.

Months later I would try dating again and dated a hot 18-year-old virgin I met in arts school. I introduced her to certain things in life; shouldn't have done that. but we adultly agreed on a serious relationship where I'd get to know her family and the like. She also baked me a cake for birthday and we even participated in her grandparents gold wedding anniversary. But after about three weeks I'd realize that she couldn't fill the void I had created mentally; and so I turned into a power asshole until she broke up with me.

But then I gave in. After finishing art school I stopped dating. I thought, as long as my heart is not open, as long as I am unable to love again, I shouldn't confront the rest of womenhood with my heartache. Too embarassing anyway.

And that's when I decided to live alone for quite some time.

Thanks for reading.

Kulla

Thursday, June 8, 2023

Why we're far from legalizing: A brief look at the present political landscape in Austria

Hey Leute!

Der folgende Zweiteiler befasst sich mit dem derzeitigen Legalisierungsstatus von Cannabis und den derzeitigen politischen Strukturen in Österreich, die wenig Hoffnung dazu geben, dass in naher Zukunft Weed legalisiert wird. Viele junge Leute sprühen hingegen vor Optimismus, weil im Nachbarland Deutschland bald ein großer Schritt in Richtung umsetzbarer Legalisierung gemacht wird. Nach dem aktuellsten Gesetzesentwurf wird dabei der private Anbau von 3 Pflanzen--nicht pro Haushalt, sondern pro volljähriger Person--erlaubt sein. Zusätzlich kann man in Anbauvereinen, die sich an der Idee der spanischen Cannabis Social Clubs orientieren, Cannabis erwerben und dort konsumieren. Allerdings dürfen keine Mischprodukte verkauft werden. Ihr werdet also in deutschen Anbauvereinen keine vorgerollten Joints oder Edibles kaufen können, sondern meistens nur Buds und Haschisch. Anzunehmen daher, dass sich der Cannabiskonsum vorwiegend im Privatraum abspielen wird. Denn wenn ihr eure Pflanzen zuhause hochzüchtet, erntet, trocknet, etc., dürft Ihr das Zeug so aufbereiten wie ihr wollt und dürft es gemeinsam mit euren volljährigen Freunden zuhause im Garten in welcher Form auch immer konsumieren--es sei denn ihr wohnt direkt neben einer Schule. Dort und in der näheren Umgebung nämlich ist Cannabis tabu. In der Nähe von Schulen dürft Ihr auch keinen Anbauverein aufsperren. Aber das nur nebenbei. Eine solche Gesetzesnivellierung ist in Österreich auf jeden Fall realitätsferne Kifferfantasie...

Sitzverteilung des östereichischen Nationalrats in Prozent
Ich stell euch die wichtigsten Parteien Österreichs vor und erklär euch was mit diesen Parteien nicht funktioniert. Ich geh kurz auf die Geschichte ein und nenne dabei die wichtigsten Köpfe der jeweiligen Parteien im Schnellüberblick - und hier wirklich nur die Stars und Evergreens (und das Unkraut, wenn man's so will). Die ganze parteipolitische Propaganda werdet ihr in diesem Blog nicht finden. Ich hab mich hier darauf fixiert keinen Bullshit, den konservative Hirnwixer zusammengesponnen haben, zu wiederholen, weil das die Art ist wie man Idioten, Faschisten und anderen hirnlosen Geschöpfen sprechen beibringt. However, abschließend geh ich auf typische parteiübliche Standpunkte zur Cannabislegalisierung ein.

Ihr könnt auch an einem kleinen Wissensvergleich (vergleichbar mit Kahoot) teilnehmen: Zu jeder Person, die ihr bereits vor Lesen dieses Artikels kennt oder zumindest schon häufig gehört habt, könnt ihr euch die Punktezahl notieren, die neben der jeweiligen Person steht. Zählt am Ende eure Punkte zusammen und tragt das Ergebnis - wenn Ihr wollt anonym - in den comments ein. Scheut auf keinen Fall den Vergleich und habt vor allem viel Spaß beim Lesen. Der Blog selber ist zwar nichts für Lesefaule, doch ihr spart euch einen Großteil der Reads, die ihr im Quellenverzeichnis findet, wenn ihr mit weniger Input trotzdem informiert sein wollt.

 

 

Ein kurzer Blick auf die aktuelle politische Landschaft Österreichs

Also, die Zweite Republik - das ist die, in der wir uns jetzt befinden - kommt etwa so um 1955 so richtig in Fahrt, also etwa 10 Jahre nach Ende des Zweiten Weltkriegs. Die beiden Parteien, die sich mehrheitlich bei den Wahlen durchsetzen und daraufhin gemeinsam Regierungen bilden, sind die eher linkslastige SPÖ und die eher rechtslastige ÖVP. Die SPÖ repräsentierte ursprünglich die Arbeiter, die ÖVP repräsentierte etwa Unternehmer und Bauern. Die Mischung aus SPÖ und ÖVP ist zumindest geschichtlich betrachtet ein Erfolg, wenn man etwa an den Wiederaufbau des Landes und das Wiedererstarken der österreichischen Wirtschaftskraft denkt. Doch das Big Team, das zuversichtlich Koalitionen bildet, sind SPÖ und ÖVP heute nicht mehr, unter anderem deswegen, weil sich die politische Landschaft um einige politische Ideen vervielfältigt hat. Seit Beginn der Zweiten Republik stellte zumindest eine der beiden Parteien den Bundeskanzler, also den Typen der die Regierung im Namen seiner Partei anführt. Bislang stellte auch immer die stimmenstärkste Partei den Bundeskanzler. Das ist deswegen, weil es Usus ist, dass der Bundespräsident [der separat vom Parlament gewählt wird] die stimmenstärkste Partei als erstes mit einer Regierungsbildung beauftragt.

By the way, viel mehr Einfluss auf die österreichische Politik hatte der Bundespräsident noch nie. Das österreichische Pendant zu amerikanischen Präsidenten wie Bill Clinton (75), George Bush (50), Barack Obama (1), Donald Trump (1) oder Joe Biden (3) ist hinsichtlich des politischen Einflusses nicht der österreichische Präsident, sondern der (Bundes-)Kanzler - wie die folgenden Zeilen veranschaulichen: Vor etwa einem Vierteljahrhundert entschied sich Österreich mehrheitlich für den Beitritt in die EU. Den Vertrag dazu wollte der damalige Bundespräsident Thomas Klestil (75) unterschreiben. Der damals amtierende Kanzler Franz Vranizky (75) meinte quasi "Thomas, verpiss dich; das ist mein Job. Ich bin die Authorität, die die Urkunde zu unterzeichnen hat". In a nutshell, der Bundespräsident hat wenig bis garkeine Entscheidungskraft in einer Demokratie wie der unseren; das nur nebenbei.

Gleichgeblieben sind seit 1945 auf jeden Fall die Mandate/Sitze im Parlament: Es sind derer 183. Die 183 Hobos die diese Mandate einnehmen sind quasi unsere gewählten Volksvertreter, die tag-täglich über Gesetzesbeschlüsse abstimmen. Für die meisten Gesetzesbeschlüsse braucht man eine Mehrheit von über 50 Prozent. Ausnahme bilden die für einen funktionierenden Parlamentarismus wichtigen Verfassungsgesetze für deren Änderung eine 2/3-Mehrheit benötigt wird. Die Verfassung müsste aber für ein Cannabisgesetz wie es in Deutschland beschlossen wird in Österreich ziemlich sicher nicht geändert werden. Allerdings begünstigt die Verfassung die Legalisierung von Weed nicht. So entschied etwa der Verfassungsgerichtshof im Juli 2022, dass das Verbot von Cannabis in Österreich im Einklang mit der Verfassung steht. Anyway, selbst eine Mehrheitenbildung von mehr als 50 Prozent für Gesetzesbeschlüsse wie jenes in Deutschland ist schwer zu bewerkstelligen, da die Parteien so unterschiedliche Werte und Lebensvorstellungen haben. Im folgenden erfahrt ihr mehr über die einzelnen Parlamentsparteien und ihre wichtigsten Vertreter

ÖVP - Die Schwarzen (zwischenzeitlich Türkisen); 71 Mandate im Parlament

Die Österreichische Volkspartei ist mittlerweile die mächtigste Partei der Republik. Sie bildet aktuell die Regierung mit den Grünen [zu denen wir später kommen]. ÖVP-Politiker haben meist konservative Standpunkte, sprich, sie sind sehr traditionsverhaftet und tragen mit ihrer Politik wesentlich dazu bei dass die etablierten Großunternehmer wirtschaftlich an der Macht bleiben. Sie gelten nicht nur als konservative Wirtschaftspartei, sondern zumindest geschichtlich gesehen als die "christlich-soziale" Partei des Landes. Religion spielt also bis heute eine Rolle in der ÖVP, wenngleich nicht so stark ausgeprägt wie in der FPÖ [zu der wir später kommen]. Die namenhaftesten ÖVP-Politiker der Geschichte sind etwa der erste ÖVP-Kanzler Leopold Figl (100) und der jüngste Kanzler der österreichischen Geschichte, Sebastian Kurz (15). Kurz regierte bis zuletzt als Kanzler der Republik und ist hauptverantwortlich für den aktuellen Status der ÖVP im Parlament. Er verwarf in seiner Blütezeit im Grunde genommen zentrale christlich-soziale Werte und kopierte in vielen Bereichen das politische Konzept der radikalen FPÖ und erreichte damit viele Leute die für eine strenge Asylpolitik zu begeistern waren und sind.

Aktuell [im Juni 2023] spricht sich die ÖVP weitgehend geschlossen gegen eine Legalisierung von THC-Weed aus; no compromise.

Gemeinsam mit der SPÖ [...gleich] teilen sich die Schwarzen meist die Grey Vote (=ältere Wähler) in Österreich auf. Es sind dies zumeist Stammwähler, die aufgrund der erwähnten Leistungen in der Nachkriegszeit den beiden Parteien bislang treu geblieben sind und einen wertvollen Teil der Wählerbasis von SPÖ und ÖVP ausmachen. Der Unterschied zwischen den beiden Parteien liegt im Wesentlichen heute darin, dass sich die ÖVP mehr für die Reichen und das Establishment stark macht, während die SPÖ versucht eine Politik zu schaffen, die den Ärmsten des Landes gerecht erscheint:

SPÖ - Die Roten; 40 Mandate im Parlament

Die Sozialdemokratische Partei Österreichs steht in ihren politischen Parolen für Freundschaft, Chancengleichheit, Brüderlichkeit, Integration, soziale Sicherheit,... you name it. Grundsätzlich ist die SPÖ die Partei mit den humanitärsten Ideen [mal abgesehen von den Grünen, zu denen wir später kommen] da ihre Politik inklusiv sein will, alle im Land berücksichtigen will, gleich behandeln will. In der näheren Vergangenheit gelang es den Roten aber nicht ihre Ideale auch wirklich in der realen Welt umzusetzen...

Den Höhepunkt und meisten politischen Einfluss feierte die Partei unter einem kräftigen jüdischen Herren namens Bruno Kreisky (40). Den Typ wählten die Leute drei mal hintereinander mit absoluter Mehrheit, sodass die Partei von 1970 bis 1983 unter seiner Führung allein regierte. Kreisky war bereit die Staatskasse so zu belasten, dass fast jeder Arbeit hatte. Dafür schienen ihn die Leute zu lieben. Noch heute, etwa 33 Jahre nach seinem Tod, schwärmen ältere Leute über seine Fähigkeiten als Politiker, selbst in den Lagern der rechten FPÖ [gleich...]

Aktuell hält sich die SPÖ tendenziell eher ablehnend gegenüber einer Cannabislegalisierung. Lediglich die Parteijugend, die wenig bis garnicht Einfluss ins Parlamentsgeschehen hat, spricht sich derzeit für eine vollständige Legalisierung aus. Als Grund für die negative Haltung nennt man etwa gesundheitspolitische Gründe und Jugendschutzgründe. Bei aller Menschlichkeit und Fürsorge, die die Partei auszeichnet, stehen wir als Kiffer somit vor dem Problem zuerst einmal den unaufgeklärten Roten erklären zu müssen, dass nicht jeder Kiffer gleich ein hoffnungsloser Drogenkranker ist, dass wir hier keine einschlägiges gesellschaftliches Desaster ins Leben rufen wollen und dass die Kids, die schon in jungen Jahren kiffen nicht die zukünftig größten Idioten unserer Nation sein werden. Zu viele Schreckgespenster wirren noch in den Köpfen der Roten. Die SPÖ ist nun sicher keine schlechte Partei, aber wenn die Legalisierung von Weed euer vorerst einziges politisches Interesse ist, seid ihr auch bei der SPÖ momentan noch an der falschen Adresse. Grundsätzlich aber wählbar, will man dass sich der Sozialstaat weiterentwickelt. Absolut unwählbar bleibt aber die...

FPÖ - Die Blauen; 30 Mandate im Parlament

Nun, man muss kein Politikwissenschaftler sein, um zu wissen, dass die Freiheitliche Partei Österreichs für Ausländerfeindlichkeit steht und dass auch Neonazis und Antisemiten Teil ihrer Base bilden - das weiß man! Die Blauen sind  im österreichischen Parlament die klassische (Skandal- und) Oppositionspartei, sprich, sie sind die, die Argumente aufbringen, die die aktuelle Regierung kritisieren. Damit erreichen sie zusätzlich zu ihrer Base sehr oft Protestwähler. Der prominenteste Kopf der FPÖ hieß Jörg Haider (100). Haider war extrem provokant, hetzte regelmäßig gegen Minderheiten, ließ sich beim Shakehands mit Saddam Hussein (100) [ehemaliger Diktator des Irak, damals noch vor Zeiten Osama Bin Ladens (50) größter Feind der USA, nach Gefangennahme hingerichtet] ablichten und war bei den Rechten sehr beliebt. Niemand konnte ihn in die Schranken weisen und sein politisches Ende war letztendlich nur durch einen Autounfall besiegelt, der ihn das Leben kostete. Die rechte Partei FPÖ spaltete sich während Haiders politischem Höhepunkt kurzzeitig in FPÖ und BZÖ (Bündnis Zukunft Österreich, Parteifarbe Orange). Mittlerweile ist die FPÖ aber wieder einziger Vertreter des rechten und rechtsradiklaen Spektrums im Parlament und bekommt wieder viel Zustimmung von ausländerfeindlichen, xenophoben Wählern. Der letzte nenneswerte FPÖ-Politiker - von ihm solltet ihr dann doch gehört haben - war Heinz Christian Strache (5). Unter Strache schaffte es die FPÖ erst zum dritten Mal in die Regierung und wäre da auch heute noch, hätte es nicht das berühmte Ibiza-Video gegeben - ein mit versteckter Kamera aufgenommenes Video, dass einen Dialog festhält in dem Strache einer Schauspielerin, die sich als reiche russische Oligarchentochter ausgibt, unmoralische Angebote unterbreitet. Mit Auftauchen des Videos in den Medien wurde Strache im österreichischen Parlament unmöglich. Mittlerweile ist Strache eine arbeitsuchende Witzfigur in der heimischen Medienlandschaft, die keinen Einfluss mehr auf die österreichische Politik nehmen kann. Die FPÖ hingegen erstarkt [nach aktuellen Umfragen im Juni 2023] unter ihrer neuen Parteiführung - wenn man aktuellen Umfragen Glauben schenken darf - zur populärsten Partei im Land. Mit Grund für die aktuelle Popularität der Partei ist ihr überdurchschnittliches Engagement auf Facebook und weiteren sozialen Medien; und die Befeuerung fremdenfeindlicher Narrative mittels parteinaher Medien wie etwa dem Nachrichtenportal "unzensoriert" oder mittels parteieigener Medien wie dem Fernsehsender "FPÖ TV". 

Auch aus den Reihen der FPÖ kommt bislang nur Ablehnung zur Legaliserung. Häufigstes Argument dafür sei "Cannabis ist eine Einstiegsdroge". 

.....Das ist natürlich Bullshit, by the way: Die bekanntesten Einstiegsdrogen sind Alkohol und Nikotin, die im Körper schneller Sucht hervorrufen als Cannabis. Bei Cannabis wird ohenhin davon ausgegangen, dass eine Sucht wenn dann nur psychischer Natur sein kann und nicht dringend das THC als Suchtmittel fungiert - etwa anders als bei Nikotin, wo der Körper ständig weitere Dosen des Suchtmittels fordert und man deswegen mehrmals am Tag das Bedürfnis verspührt, man müsse rauchen etc. Wieder ein Grund mehr seine Joints ohne Tabak zu rauchen....(back to the main topic)

Die drei Großparteien sind auf jeden Fall alle vorerst gegen eine Legalisierung. Von ÖVP und FPÖ ist zu erwarten, dass sie geschlossen diesen Standpunkt beibehalten und eventuell auch neue Argumente gegen die Legalisierung erfinden. Derzeit bilden ÖVP und FPÖ im Parlament eine Mehrheit von über 50 Prozent. Daher braucht man bis Ende der derzeitigen Legislaturperiode wohl nicht mehr mit Gesetzesentwürfen zugunsten der Kiffer rechnen. Die nächsten Nationalratswahlen - das sind die, bei denen das Parlament gewählt wird - finden vorrausichtlich im Herbst 2024 statt. Dann solltet Ihr wählen gehen und auf Zuwachs entweder für die SPÖ, für die Grünen oder für die NEOS hoffen....

Die Grünen; 26 Mandate im Parlament

Die Grünen sind die zweitjüngste Partei im Parlament und stehen seither für Umweltschutz und Feminismus. Der bekannteste ehemalige Grüne ist niemand geringerer als Alexander van der Bellen (10). Der aktuelle Bundespräsident von Österreich war dafür bekannt, dass er etwa Parlamentsclowns wie Heinz Christian Strache mit Hausverstand gekonnt in Frage stellte. Der politische Aufstieg von Strache ging eigentlich erst los als van der Bellen nicht mehr im Nationalrat/Parlament tätig war; das aber nur nebenbei. Die Grünen flogen zwischenzeitlich unter der Führung der wahrscheinlich unfähigsten Chefin aller Zeiten, Ulrike Lunatschek (35), aus dem Parlament. Dank der Promotion für Klimaschutz durch Gräte Thunfisch(0) und Fridays 4 Future erreichten die Grünen dann aber bei den letzten Nationalratswahlen einen Rekordzuwachs und bildeten daraufhin gemeinsam mit der ÖVP die aktuell bestehende Regierung.

Die Grünen sprechen sich schon seit 2001 für eine vollständige Legalisierung von Cannabis aus. Allerdings waren sie damit für lange Zeit die einzigen im Lande und so gab es nie konkrete Pläne. Die Gesetzesentwürfe die derzeit in Deutschland die Runde machen, seien für die Grünen ein guter Ansatz, an dem man sich auch in Österreich orientieren könne. Damit man solche Entwürfe aber diskutieren kann, bräuchte es eben mehr Zustimmung im Parlament. Einen kleinen Lichtblick gibt es hier seitens der kleinsten und jüngsten Partei im Parlament:

NEOS - Parteifarbe Pink;  15 Mandate im Parlament

Die NEOS gründeten sich erst vor etwa 10 Jahren und halten seither ihre ca. 6 Prozent im Parlament. (Anm.: Es benötigt zumindest 4 Prozent um in den Nationalrat/ins Parlament einzuziehen bzw. dort zu verweilen.). Die Partei in Pink vertritt die Liberalen im Parlament und bilden so ein Gegenstück zur konservativen ÖVP [Link zum Vergleich]. Das bekannteste Gründungsmitglied war Matthias Strolz(50), der vor allem durch Kraftausdrücke und Unverblümtheit in seiner Rhetorik auffiel. Nach seinem Rückzug aus der Politik übernahm die heutige Chefin, Beate Meinl-Reisinger (25), den Vorsitz der Partei.

In ihrem letzten themenbezogenen TV-Interview bei den Sommergesprächen 2022 meinte Meinl-Reisinger, die NEOS wollen nicht legalisieren sondern entkriminalisieren. Was das im Detail heißt ist noch unklar, aber man kann davon ausgehen, dass die NEOS bei Legalisierungsplänen der Grünen mitziehen- oder umgekehrt [- sollte sich das politische Konstrukt im österreichischen Parlament noch zugunsten der Kiffer ändern].

Wie sich das Parlament zusammensetzen müsste damit eine Legalisierung als realistisches Ziel wahrnehmbar wird, versuch ich in einem weiteren Blogpost zu erläutern. In diesem Post den Ihr gerade lest, gehe ich aber noch auf weitere Parteien ein, die sich in der Vergangenheit für Legalisierung ausgesprochen haben, wenngleich diese Parteien auf nationaler Ebene keinen Einfluss auf die Gesetze nehmen können.

KPÖ - Parteifarbe Dunkelrot

Die Kommunistische Partei Österreichs orientiert sich - wie der Name schon sagt - am Kommunismus. Kommunismus ist eine fast 200 Jahre alte Ideologie, die sich durch Arbeiten der Quasi-Philosophen Karl Marx(50) und Frederick Engels (150) und dem Politiker Vladimir Lenin (100) in der Weltgeschichte verewigte. Die anfangs philosophische Strömung des Marxismus/Leninismus entwickelte sich im Laufe der Geschichte zu einer radikalen politischen Strömung, die etwa unter Stalin (6) Millionen Tote forderte. Nach dem zweiten Weltkrieg verlor der Kommunismus an Popularität und verschwand bald scheinbar völlig von der politischen Landkarte Österreichs. Seit etwa 15 bis 20 Jahren erfährt die Partei allerdings wieder ein Revival. An diesem Erfolg hauptbeteilgt war ein alter Kommunist namens Ernst "Ernesto" Kaltenegger (75). Kaltenegger war Stadtpolitiker in Graz und sorgte in seiner Stadt maßgeblich dafür, dass etwa Substandardwohnungen - also Wohnungen in denen Leben zum größten Teil unzumutbar war,... das eben diese Wohnungen saniert und auf lebenswürdiges Niveau gebracht wurden. Dadurch bekam die neuartige sozial-orientierte Partei ein besseres Image und die Zustimmung der Wähler steigt seither stetig an. Mittlerweile stellt die Partei die Bürgermeisterin in Graz und besetzt die ersten Sitze im steiermärkischen und oberösterreichischen Landtag (- die erste wichtige politische Einheit unter dem Parlament; für uns insofern interessant, weil nicht der Bund sondern die Länder über Jugendschutzbestimmungen in den jeweiligen Bundesländern bestimmen;)

However, wenn ich an die KPÖ denke, erinnere ich mich immer wieder an den spottbillligen Flyer auf dem eine Cannabispflanze und der Spruch "Schützt die Kleinbauern" zu finden war. Der Flyer stammt aber aus dem Jahre Schnee. Seither hab ich nie wieder KPÖler über Cannabis diskutierend wahrgenommen.

Kaum wahrnehmbar sind auch

ppAT, die Piraten - Parteifarbe Violett

Hier gleich mal sorry für die Parteilichkeit in dem Blog, aber die Piratenpartei Österreichs ist eine echt tolle Partei mit einem sehr interessantem Parteiprogramm . Die Piraten haben sich ein bißchen mehr Anerkennung von Seiten der Wähler verdient.  Zuletzt waren sie bei der vorvorletzten steiermärkischen Landtagswahl erfolgreich und somit kurzzeitig im Landtag vertreten. An den Erfolg konnte die Partei aber seither nicht wirklich anschließen. In der nahen Vergangenheit stieß man auf wenig Resonanz. Unverständlich, betrachtet man das moderne Parteiprogramm, dass zumindest in Punkt 23 (Drogenpolitik) eine Freigabe von Cannabis zu diversen medizinischen Zwecken anstrebt.

 

Okay, das war's mit dem ersten Einblick in die heimische Politik.Vielleicht schreib ich noch mehr dazu. Vorher möcht ich mich aber noch informieren wie ich am besten auf meinen Blog aufmerksam machen kann. Mit der Cannabisverherrlichung wie ich sie in meiner englischsprachigen Reihe (Its not supposed to hurt) betrieben hab, möcht ich aber vorerst abschließen, da Cannabis für mich und mein Leben als kleiner, wahrheitssuchender Translationswissenschaftler keine Perspektiven mehr bietet. Regulars, die auf Weed und Haschisch schwören, werden mich hier nicht verstehen. Bis ich ein wirklich wichtiges Thema gefunden hab, wird also Zeit vergehen und Ihr werdet wahrscheinlich lange nichts von mir lesen. Danke aber, dass zumindest Ihr meine Beiträge gelesen habt.

Kulla 👹🐌



Quellen:
https://www.derstandard.at/story/2000145466631/oevp-und-gruene-kommen-bei-cannabis-legalisierung-auf-keinen-gruenen
https://www.noen.at/niederoesterreich/politik/debatte-neos-und-gruene-wollen-cannabis-legalisieren-oevp-und-fpoe-sind-dagegen-niederoesterreich-363618598
https://www.salzburg24.at/news/oesterreich/cannabis-legalisierung-in-oesterreich-so-stehen-die-chancen-137130610
https://www.meinbezirk.at/c-politik/parteien-zu-cannabis-legalisierung-und-jugendschutz_a5521504
https://www.youtube.com/live/394ap1dCNyQ?feature=share

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thursday, May 25, 2023

It's not supposed to hurt - Part 3: Quintessentially speaking

Okay... It took me some time to complete this particular part of the story. Reason for that is that I wasn't necessarily able to write since I was emotionally overwhelmed by the experience I'm about to describe. Now that I see everything in perspective I can stop licking my "wounds" and continue working on my writings as emotionally exclusive as every other vacation junky. Don't skip the read, even if it emphasizes on love interest and future planning rather than cannabis smoking. In sum, it's all about lifestyle and decision-making related to cannabis smoking. So, read it; be informed and entertained...

Well, let's get started...meeting a sweet pot chic in my age up in Amsterdam 😊
As there was my last day in Amsterdam and only few hours left until my flight back to Vienna, there wasn't much space/time left for offensive plans. Thinking me back into the situation, I guess I should have tried to calm down and make the best of the situation--because the situation wasn't bad at all since I was sitting there in the GOA coffeeshop with great hash and a seemingly awesome person. I knew exactly what to do with my hash, of course. However, I wasn't quite sure what move of mine would work best to make the girls heart beat a little louder. When we sat to our table in the coffeeshop, she remained quite reserved. We didn't get an empty table and therefore had to sit opposite some pot kid with a cap. It appeared as if she wouldn't feel comfy then; she must have felt confined due to the crowd around her and the narrow space she had for herself to roll a joint. From all the impulses she conducted throughout the last three days, I would have thought that she would love to sit [so] close to me. The opposite was the case; she was one of these ladies who need a little zone of empty space around their waistes to feel free and unrestricted.

I myself wasn't responding smart at all but impatient instead and so, after asking her about her professions (she was astrologer, masseuse and yoga teacher), I would pick on her astrology thingy and question her beliefs loudly. That wouldn't turn her on, I creepingly (🐌) realized. She then suddenly picked up her phone and sank into it. Now, usually that's a red flag that makes me vanish, but in the moment it felt as if it was MY fault that she'd escape into her wonder screen. So I asked her about what she was reading on her phone and stuff, hoping to get her back into a conversation. But it wouldn't work; she was lost already. After a few minutes that kid from opposite the table left the shop. The girl then asked me kindly to change seats. After that and before I finished rolling my first joint [on the other end of the table], she stood up and blabbered something about a deadline for an application for traumasensitive massage or something (doesn't matter), then shook my hand and left forever. (Forever--because back home, when I texted her a few times... you guessed it: she 👻ed me.) And so another pot chic passed by on my seemingly endless search for a soulmate in a hell that whispers "You won't find her"...

In a nutshell: nice girl, sweet smile, soothing voice, but what I missed where deep conversations that would bring me any closer to her. On top of that, I didn't do her a single time (far far far from that). Briefly, nothing happened, so it's not supposed to hurt--but it kinda did 😢, and when I left for Vienna I felt heartbroken. I would spend the next days and weeks asking myself what went awry, but nothing would make sense. I fell into a slight depression and intended to dwell down there at least for a month. But the heartache would fortunately leave after about two weeks and after that time it made no longer sense to pity myself. However, the pain and the sadness I carried through the day brought about some fruitful ideas that, I think, are worth sharing...


Drawing conclusions

Now, that was not the most breathtaking story you've ever read, was it? That probably happens to you and your tinder dates all the time; right? Nothing peculiar at all. Hm..., it was kind of bitter for me, though 😔. Let me explain...

As you've certainly figured out already, I'm single most of the time I roam around in this world. It's less that I want to be single all the time; I simply cherish my freedoms and my independence as a single so much that I hardly ever feel eager to find a partner; I hardly ever feel the need to bond with someone else, probably because I don't know much about the comfort of a decent fulfilling relationship. I dunno... Some of my colleagues tell me that they need the security and that they choose to search for a partner when they endure too much loneliness. I scarcely ever feel this way; in fact, most of the time I enjoy my lonetime [of which I have plenty]... and a certain amount of it I need almost every day. However, I feel that strange void in my chest already.

Friends around me found families and therefore have far less time to nourish our friendship lately; and the profound communication I have with them is now rare and already insufficient. After all these years it suddenly makes sense to have a loving friend around, if necessary every day. So here I stand with a fresh desire for friendship and love, ready for a certain commitment that I wouldn't have contemplated years ago.

The reason why I told you about two of the few interesting encounters that I remember in recent months, is because these encounters made me realize what I'm after; and I assume almost every  pothead in my country is coping with the same scarcity of pot chics and therefore might face difficulties when it comes to meeting potential, compatible lovers, friends, companions, soulmates; because, face it, if you prospect for your soulmate--a person who accompanies you for quite some time on the road--you want it to be someone who shares interests, someone who supports you in who you are and the things you love to do, so, of course, it has to be a pot chic; it has to be someone like you.

The hard thing in a typical Austrian setting is to eventually perceive pot chics as who they are...you know, there's no dresscode or something. Maybe they weigh less in average since they prefer their calorie-free drug to 🍰, chocolate and 🍔, I dunno. My point is, you don't know before you know,... and the trick is to make'em visible first. So, here is how you do it:


Instructions on how you first "approach" a pot-loving, kind-hearted pal that [therefore] turns out to be a potential soulmate [in mothafuckin Austria].

1. Just be yourself

Now, that sounds a little harsh, but what I meant to express was

2. Roll a joint right in front of her...

...cuz if she actually is the one (or as educated polygam dudes out there would put it: if she's good to fuck for quite some time) then she deserves to know in advance what she can expect from her love interest. But we aren't that far yet. First you have to

3. See how she's reacting...

...cuz if she's not completely frozen or asking "Willst du den etwa hier rauchen?", instead staying right where she is, willing to smoke that shit with you,... then she's at least open for your habits--and that's worth diamonds. But you know,.. when she leaves, that's pretty much it. Anyway, next

4. Light whatever crooked thing you just nervously created

--since you've practiced rolling a joint for spontaneous celebrative occasions several times-- you then

4. Light the joint and hand it to her

If she doesn't run away with it, continue with Advice #1 and you'll be fine, promised.

 

 

So, that's it, folks. Hope you liked this introducing post section and you took something with you until we meet again. In the next section, before neglecting the topic completely, I will mix it up the cannabis topic with something different. Contact me if you want to participate in this blog project. I'm grateful for every tender soul who accompanies me on my journey. Feel free to leave a comment anyway.

Yours,
Kulla 👹




Tuesday, May 16, 2023

It's not supposed to hurt - Part 2: King's Day and the day after in Amsterdam

Allrighty. So, if you've read Part 1 of this post already, then you've just accompanied me on my tour on King's Night, the pre-party to the greatest national holiday for the Dutch--King's Day. But I perceived comparingly little of this pre-event since the most interesting venues were sold out. I could have visited a few more coffeeshops, but when I left the Green House shop I came to ponder about the girl I had just met. First, because I am always getting suspicious when an attractive lady shows interest in me; I am simply not that much of a fuckable-looking contemporary these days. (In fact, I usually give them the creeps).  And second, because I couldn't get her out of my head for a while... too inspiring and too nice for a girl of her fashion. So maybe sleep would help me order some thoughts. I left for the hostel...😴

Next morning I woke up at about 10 or something--too late for breakfast in the hostel where I stood. So I went out on the streets rather early and got myself an English breakfast in the city. It was about eleven o'clock. The later it became the more people dressed in orange would appear on the streets. Lots of people already opened their private sales stalls or less where they would sell stuff. Most of the time they sold refreshments and fast food. The ubiquity of spots where you could buy beer and hot dogs, in fact, made it easy for me to organize lunch. On my way from the city center to Vondel (the shop I recommended in Part 1) through Vondelpark, I had a hotdog each estimated 500 meters, I guess. I visited several bars and had my long-anticipated edible in a coffeeshop called The Rookies. It was an orange space cake with half a gram of weed in it. Tasted good but didn't have much effect on me. I needed something stronger and therefore had another primavera in mind.

So I headed for the next coffeeshop that smiled at me: Terps Army. I recognized the logo of the shop from a fairly successful cannabis social club in Barcelona, went in hoping to get the best there. The shop itself was rather small, but an entire seating area was empty, so I gave it a try: Although they had mostly indica and hash I ordered one of the two sativa strains they offered that day. I think it was ordinary Amnesia weed; served the purpose. Later I rolled a joint with tobacco and the darkest hash they sold. After sucking that shit in I remained high as a kite for hours. I slowly walked through the city, passed a few canals, didn't count the hotdogs I swallowed during that time.

Later in the evening when I came to senses again, I was eager to know if it would work out with that girl from the night before. So I texted her and asked her out for nine o'clock. She postponed to ten then stopped responding. Something went awry with our WhatsApp connection and I expected to never see or hear her again; unlucky. But since a holiday romance wasn't part of my Amsterdam plans anyway, her ghosting me wouldn't ruin my night. However, quite early I felt tired from walking through the city. I called it a day rather early in the evening and went to my hostel dorm where I would fall asleep with ease.

Next morning I woke up at about 9:30 or something--just in time to grab a few slices of toast, ham and tomatoes plus some orange juice from the breakfast bar in the hostel. I checked out at ten and headed for a coffeeshop I avoided to visit just until then. It was an eyesore of interior design that I didn't want to condone and it's called The Dolphins. The hash I eventually got there was light-brown and had a nice kneadable texture. I stood for one joint in the bar, not because I started to get used to the environment but because the shop was the only place so far where they would play Metal music. When I heard them playing "Two Minutes to Midnight" of Iron Maiden I knew I would have to stay at least for a cup of coffee. The coffee was great and the women behind the bar looked awesome in their white blouses. To summarize, a lovely place, not only for the blind ones.

Speaking of women, that girl from King's Night texted me in the morning. We chatted a bit and she invited me for a cup of coffee and a stroll through the streets. We finally met at two--and my flight was at eight. So there was still plenty of time left to get to know that hot stranger.

But before that, I would go to the STRAAT museum. A free ferry brought me from the station to the area where STRAAT is located. I walked a bit further to check out the only coffeeshop around. It was called the Funny People coffeeshop and it was just a take-away-counter 😟. The selection was very basic; insufficient information about the strains. I bought two pre-rolled joints, 5 bugs each; one with hash, the other one with a sativa mix; both had too much tobacco in it and scarcely gave a high. Taste was...yeah...like tobacco pretty much.

Speaking of tobacco, they say there are certain coffeeshops where they'd not allow tobacco smoke. That appears to be a myth. I am one of these people who roll their joints with tobacco and everywhere where I'd ask for the "tobacco zone", they'd say "It's not okay to smoke cigarettes, but it's okay if you roll your joint with tobacco in here". Even in shops that had boards on the table saying "NO USE OF TOBACCO IN ANY WAY" they'd allow me to roll and smoke my joint with tobacco. To conclude, don't feel urged to change your smoking habits; it's not necessary 😁.

It was necessary, though, to meet that cute girl. We texted about four hours just to find a spot where we could meet and at two I found the bar where she had two pieces of cake while waiting for me; I picked her up there. I should have waited until two thirty, because every further slice of cake would have done her well; she was just skin and bone, I figured. Anyway, we canceled our stroll due to rainy weather and had our coffee in a coffeeshop named GOA. They served Lavazza in paper cups; didn't have oat milk, so I drank mine black with sugar. She paid and even wanted to invite me for the hash we'd have there, but we picked differently, so I wanted to pay for myself. The selection was quite pricey, but the quality was convincing as well. Here is where I'd find my favorite hash variant; it was a White Choco Bloc: Dark brown, lovely kneadable texture, slightly creamy, tasted more like classical Marrocan hash. In a nutshell, I had a hot cup of coffee, the most formidable hash that I sucked in in ages, a starting conversation with a lovely lady, and about two hours left to.... I don't know...

...What were my intentions with her? Making out like two sixteen-year-olds at promnight in a sausage-party-like environment like GOA, as a souvenir or something...? Having a deep conversation about the meaning of life then falling in love with each other and cancelling the flight due to a spontaneous mission of love? Making an appointment for ayuverdic massage or private yoga classes with her the next time I visit Amsterdam? Those were all good ideas that I didn't have in that moment. Instead, I fucked up so bad; I don't know if I can put it in words...

...read me in Part 3

Kulla 👹

 


Saturday, May 6, 2023

It's not supposed to hurt - Part 1, King's Night in Amsterdam

Hi guys, you may wonder why this is the first post of this blog. Well, I've deleted all my past blogs because all the conclusions I presented in the past turned out to be bullshit and as a responsible pseudo scientist I try to be helpful with what I utter. Fortunately no one reads my blog.  Maybe this time, I can give you something solid...

So, just to introduce myself, I am not a regular pot smoker, I am generally anti-420, but pro decrimininalisation, I sometimes try to convince regulars that they should give up smoking and instead search for purpose in life. Maybe, throughout my quality time writing, I can tell you why I think and act that way. As I never made it a secret, except always when I talk to the underaged (-then I usually preach ascethicism),... when I go on vacation I usually venture out for places where I can get decent kush. This time I eventually made it to Amsterdam, Netherlands, where I'd spend a fortune on regular doses of strongest sativa* weed strains and finest hash chunks from all over the world. If you're a pro drug person but still haven't fucked up your life with something addictive so far or if you're fed up with alcohol in your home country, you're best having a coffeeshop tour through Amsterdam that, I promise, you'll truly enjoy. However, I am not sure if this is a happy or sad story....

 * Before I continue, let's get one thing straight: when I talk about sativa and indica strains I just do it to explain what I am after. In the view of most 420 preachers a sativa provides a head-held-high feeling throughout the day and an indica brings about a couchlock feeling. Most kids in Austria still believe in this more or less unscientific taxonomy. We now know that the relation of THC, CBD and the dominant terps in your weed decide what effect you have. There are about 420 cannabinoids and over 500 terps about which we know very very little. When you order a sativa, hybrid or indica in a legally established club, the dealers there usually know what you're actually looking for - a bombastic high. So, don't go there if you want to cure or mitigate a mental disease such ADHS or depressions. That's your doctors business; he knows best.

Lately I spent my vacations in Malaga, Spain. Malaga is not necessarily a hotspot for Cannabis Social Clubs (the Spanish quasi-equivalent to Coffeeshops); in fact, the single one I've been to is already closed and it was the only one that existed in Málaga. In other words, if you search for weed in Málaga today, you have to buy smuggled, often dirty, Marrrocan hash on the beach from the dealers. However, there, in this CSC you used to get a cosy selection of fair-priced weed strains, four or five of them Cali weed, and at least three or four choices of hash that were good enough to compete with the illegal Marrocan hash that you may get offered on the beaches. Most of the time, the Social Club was almost empty. A couple of kids sat on the couch and zocked on the PlayStation, but most of the time no client was in there. In other words, not a place to meet kind pot-smoking chics.

Why is that important, you ask; well, for me, pot is a social drug. I enjoy it so much more in company and always am eager to find a tender soul I can share my time and drug with. The pot-smoking chics I got to know throughout my journey were always extraordinarily nice girls, open-minded and warm-hearted to a certain extent...and those chics clearly differ from this great deal of arrogant hotties on Mediterranian beaches that would treat you like an old perv when you ask them  help you cream your back. Pot chics on the other hand are sociable and if you get lucky they come to you first. Usually they are laid-back and talk very little. They always have a little bit of sunshine and time left for you and even bring plenty of their own pot when they hang out with you. In places where there are no spots were you can smoke pot legally, those sweet creatures are so fucking hard to find.

In Malaga it took me over a week until finally two German girls crossed my ways in the hostel where I stood for the rest of my vacations. Of course, then, I would spend most nights accompanied by the girls. We would spend the evenings together and walk through the city whenever possible, and we would smoke buttery Marrocan hash the two brought from the beaches;  every situation embedded in good mood, everything ending in constant laughter. But all good things appear to come to an end: One of the girls gave me her phone number and so I continued chatting with her for a few weeks--in order to stay in touch and maybe meet her again. But when I saw her cuddling and kissing her dog on her WhatsApp status one day, then telling her that I'd love to be in the dog's place, she would block me immediately and I would never hear from her ever again. Happens a lot everytime I confude friendlyness with sexual interest. In a nutshell, nice girl, delightful smile, awesome boobs, but what I missed where deep conversations that would bring me any closer to her. On top of that, I didn't do her a single time; briefly, nothing happened, so it's not supposed to hurt--and it didn't. In fact, the time I spent with the girls was awesome and I kept only the good memories of them. Free from any hurts or pains I would be ready to love and live again. Head held high with a clearly fostered ego I'd simply move on.

Yeah,... and then there was Amsterdam the other day. I spent only two nights up in the North before heading back to Vienna, so, two and a half days to come to grips with Amsterdam's coffee shops. From all the museums in Amsterdam I had only scheduled the Van Gogh museum and the street art museum STRAAT. The rest of the time I kept for my goal to try at least five sativa strains each day, try edibles at least once, and find my favorite hash variant.

Pretty soon, I found the shop where I'd get my favorite sativa strain. This time it was a simple Strawberry Haze from a coffeehop named Vondel, a footstep away from Vondelpark, in the West. The shop was recommended on YouTube and it seemed as if they found a professional way to sell high quality throughout the year. The weed had a fruity smell, and when you broke the buds in half you saw the hellishly toxic cristals sparkling fiery in the inside; just as much it had a slightly fruity taste, and when the joint was lit you saw a film of oil moistening the cigarette paper right below the ember; that's what you're after. I came back for more the next day and combined a Lemon Haze weed with an Amnesia Hash -- just as good, just as effective. But my favorite hash variant I would get somewhere else...

After Vondel I went for the city center and tried a few coffeeshops, with my choices still focusing on sativa strains in order to stay motivated and level-headed throughout the tour. In one of the shops I perched next to an old pot lady. She was nice and talked far above average for a pothead. So I got to hear her story of current events. It was much. She was very concerned about the wars going on at the moment and the crisis we're in. When she explained how things could come to a better ending I often had to ask for clarification, but if I got her right then only the aliens that are watching us can save us from a near nuclear catastrophe. I would definitely read her book, because while explaining her theories she never blamed the Jews for anything bad in the world. Too loving was her soul and too kind her thoughts... but she was about 20 years older than me and wore so many clothes, I couldn't imagine her performing well in a granny porn. The little bit of love I actually had left for her I invested in the joint I rolled for her: I put in a small butt of Lemon Haze, a bit of tobacco she asked for, and a few flakes of Strawberry Banana Kush Hash that I think I bought at the Get Down Coffeeshop hours ago. Since she coughed a lot, I added a Jilter on top of the filter. I thought she enjoyed the creation and so I left with a smile, also knowing that three days are not enough time to find a love interest. Wasn't the plan anyway.

I would then go further north, closer to the Red Light District of Amsterdam to find one of the highly recommended coffeeshops from the Green House chain. One of them I found by chance [won't tell you which for a reason...]. The selection there was very wide and their menu had plenty of strains I had never heard of. So I went with the safe award-winning Super Lemon Haze, short SLH, and it was worth the about fifteen bugs per gram. The shop was quite busy, but you'll find an empty seat if you get lucky.

And so it happened. I sat next to an awesome looking, blonde curly-haired girl in my age. The skin on her face was shiny from the sweat she carried with her and she was visibly marked from a hard day's work. But hell, totally my type, maybe just because of that. I started the conversation by apologizing for sitting to her table; told her that I simply didn't want to sit alone, and that seemed to have aroused sympathy in her and so we chatted a bit. Unfortunately, that didn't make her less attractive. After she rolled her second joint, she put on her clothes, gave me her card, told me that she would be free the next day at nine pm, then vanished. I rolled myself a primavera for the go and left for the hostel, in order to get a long-lasting power nap there, because next day would be King'sDay--the biggest Dutch holiday all year...