I got high.

Yes, I went to the dentist.

It was not fun, my emotions were everywhere, and my inner monologues were out of control.

I’m pretty sure the dentist and assistant were pretty worried for me, and I’m sure I embarrassed myself. Already in cloud 9, I saw the reflection in the dentist’s glasses a syringe of numbing fluid being injected in my tooth. My high mind freaked out and my heart raced. They asked how I was and I said, “I’m high! She got me high!”

I was referring to the assistant that put the happy gas. The dentist happily turned down the volume I was intaking and I felt way better.

At one point, they were telling me all the right things as soon as I started freaking out. After the first half of the procedure I let the assistant know that they were really mindful of how I was feeling. She said I made it too obvious.

Here’s what I learned:

It was just “happy gas”, but I felt way more empathetic and understanding of other people. I was replaying certain moments of interaction with friends that would get me mad, but I didn’t get mad this time. I genuinely felt like a kinder, more understanding dude. My thoughts had an extra layer of complexity that was simultaneously thinking of pros and cons of arguments. It’s super hard typing this out and not coming off as a total hippie trying to convince you why LSD is good for you.

I’m not saying that. But I do believe that my sober brain does not fully reach it’s potential, or doesn’t have the angle that an intoxicated mind may have. Whether it’s a bad angle or not, it’s still another viewpoint that you were not aware of before being induced. That was my experience at least.

The Magnifying Glass Over Me

Everybody is their own worst critic.

I should really pick up a book on philosophy, or something because I’m sure I’m not the only one who has emotions. No one is unique. People are just suited for better environments.

That being said, it’s super easy for myself to feel sorry for myself; Super sad and shit. Fuck that. I’m over it.

I’ll look into books and see what the fuck other people thought hundreds of years ago.

The (Not) Funny

I went back to open mic night yesterday.

Fucking awful.

I saw three familiar faces, we can call them comics (barely), and I’m just a regular fan that would usually attend. Yesterday was my first day going back after months of a hiatus. Nothing changed; Still cringe worthy, but a weird way to kill time when you go alone just to watch.

My buddy would make it enjoyable because we would just roast the people that were on the mic to each other, secretly. The “audience” consists of 7 members, including myself, that are all waiting to go do their set. It’s sometimes fun just because some actual, real comics will go there to test their material. The actual comics that go there are unknown and only on the local scene. These dudes go there very rarely. Yet, when someone known goes up on the mic, it’s like seeing an unknown Bill Burr on stage. My eyes widen and I’m excited to be part of a potential history.

I’m being cynical. While I was at my depressing, terrible job with bad lighting, I had the urge to do stand-up myself. This was about a year ago. We can recap what happened:

• I bombed
• I was too nervous
• Flubbed my lines
• Too nervous and got thirst
• Didn’t project my voice

So really, any time I see a comedian bomb or kill, I’m just admired they went up there in the first place. People come week after week to eat shit and then come the week after to eat more shit. It might be more therapeutic to some comics. After their hard night of telling terrible jokes to a few chuckles, everyone chain smokes outside to talk about how much they hate the world. I highly doubt that’s the truth but I’m probably not that far off.

A Friendly Reminder for Myself

Be mindful, be kind, and stay cool.