Man, you see, it's like this cosmic adventure every time i light that last joint of the night. I call it the 'farewell charro*.' I'm floating through a galaxy of munchies, trying to decide between pizza or chips. And then it hits me, i've got work in like, what, 6 hours? So there's this existential crisis, like, 'Am i a responsible adult or a space cadet?

And you know, it's so different from being drunk with a hangover. When you're hungover, you're like a zombie, dragging your feet through the day. But after the farewell charro*, you're like an enlightened sloth, just... going with the flow, man. The universe spins, and you're like, 'i can handle it all, even that morning meeting.' It's like a cosmic joke only Mary Jane understands.

*joint in portuguese

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