Introduction to a Fascinating World
When I used to be 17 years old, two things held particular sway over my imagination. One of them was virtual reality. Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash and the movie Lawnmower Man each got here out that 12 months, and while I had never heard of the technology that was bubbling through labs and startups hundreds of miles from my Midwestern home, the concept of entering and truly existing inside a digital world became a source of countless fascination.
The Other Fascination
The other thing was—well, the opposite thing was weed. First off, yes, obviously. It’s certainly one of the nice vice-based rites of passage. But smoking unlocked something transformative in my brain. It wasn’t necessarily that it rendered aesthetic experiences more vivid (which it did), or that the euphoria that got here together with that beat the hell out of many of the other emotions that otherwise define adolescence (which it did). It was that creativity and communication looked as if it would occur on a unique frequency, a variety uncluttered by self-consciousness and second guessing.
A Quarter of a Century Later
More than 25 years later, in news that will probably thrill 17-year-old me, each of those things are still a part of my life. I’ve written about VR because it first reemerged within the early a part of this decade. I’ve used it to meditate, to spend time with friends, to travel through space, and sometimes just to look at Netflix in a spot that may not my lounge. I don’t know how much time I’ve spent inside a headset, but between the exotic and the pedestrian it’s likely enough to qualify for dual citizenship with the metaverse.
The Evolution of Cannabis Use
As for cannabis: hell, it’s California. In New York, I had a delivery guy who kept his inventory in a fake tennis-ball can. Here, I can walk right into a store, browse a laminated menu, and walk out with any certainly one of dozens of strains, optimized for whatever mood or medium I prefer. You have a glass of wine with dinner, I actually have just a little Gelato with some added terpenes. (Operative term here being "just a little." I’m not 17 anymore.) I’ve used it to meditate, to spend time with friends, to travel through—you get it.
The Unexplored Combination
So it’s with great trepidation that on this, the holiest most annoying of days, that I unburden myself: I actually have never used VR while high. Never even considered it, despite their seemingly synergistic natures. And regardless that this pattern established itself organically, I’ve come to appreciate that it distills every little thing I believe (and fear) about immersive technologies, and concerning the age of simulated experience that they herald.
Reflections on Technology and Alteration
As our screens and speakers and computers got higher and higher during the last 50 years, each latest wrinkle brought with it an unspoken cultural dare: That high-def TV is cool, but did you ever watch it … on weed? Surround Sound, IMAX screens as tall as your apartment constructing, Pixar and ILM wizardry that made the unattainable real. The draw wasn’t in an even bigger, louder, sharper experience—it was how way more mind-blowing it will be along side tetrahydrocannabinol. Then flat screens gave strategy to something much, much realer, and the calculation modified considerably.
####### Personal Growth and Self-Discovery
Had VR come along once I was in highschool or college, rolling blunts or trying to attain orbit via three-foot bong, I definitely would have crossed the streams. Alteration wasn’t just intrinsic to the experience, it was the very thing that I chased. As time passed, though, I sought just the other. Cannabis became a conduit into myself, a strategy to higher notice my reactions and patterns, to take a look at my life and relationships from a unique perspective. The immediate effects would fade, but I might retain an emotional memory of the experience—a memory that added to people who got here before and after it, regularly coalescing right into a clearer sense of self.
Conclusion
In conclusion, the intersection of virtual reality and cannabis represents a captivating and sophisticated topic, reflecting broader themes of technology, self-discovery, and the human experience. While these two elements have been a part of my life for a long time, their paths have surprisingly never crossed, revealing a nuanced exploration of how we engage with technology and substances, and what we seek from these interactions. This personal journey highlights the evolving nature of our relationships with each VR and cannabis, underscoring the importance of reflection and understanding in our increasingly immersive and interconnected world.
