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Trip report about Siberian Haze from Guevara's Green House Charleroi

⏱ 00:00 — I smoke my first joint. The smoke looks incredibly thick, like condensed milk, a yellowish-milky color. It enters my lungs rather heavily, pressing heavily on my bellows, immediately triggering a harsh cough. Wow, I've got an evil widow. Tears welled up in my eyes as I coughed. The exhale tastes classic—earthy, with a distinct tart pine note and a somewhat spicy aftertaste. Without hesitation, I take a second hit, then a third, to make sure I nail my horse-cross. My throat is mercilessly scratched, my eyes instantly bloodshot. I feel the first hot wave of warmth running through my body, straight from the top of my head down my spine.

⏱ 00:05 - 00:15 — Entry. It hits me very smoothly, yet with a rock-solid confidence. My heartbeat quickens slightly, the engine starts pounding faster, my palms get a little sweaty—a typical reaction after a good drink, especially when you're already exhausted. I notice my perception of space in the room has changed, and sounds have become somehow three-dimensional, almost tangible. A track was playing in the background, and the bass actually started vibrating somewhere in my chest. "I got high really fast," I think to myself. I decide to go to the kitchen for some water, because the famous dry mouth has crept up on me so unnoticed and has dried out my mouth to the point of being like the Sahara Desert. I walk down the hallway and realize that the gravity in the apartment has been artificially increased. My legs felt completely weak and disobedient, each step a pleasant but heavy drag.

⏱ 00:15 - 01:20 — Plateau. I'd reached a full-blown plateau. It was devastating. And it was devastating, profoundly so. At first, for about ten minutes, I felt a slight high—a swarm of creative thoughts began swirling in my head. I wanted to text someone urgently, so I even pulled out my phone and jotted down a couple of lines of text for the neural network (I sometimes like to generate tracks in a dominant, confident style, without unnecessary shouting, when the mood strikes). But this creative impulse quickly gave way to a powerful, downright knockout indica stone. I sat down on the couch and... sank into the carpet. The patterns seemed so complex, I literally sat there for about ten minutes, staring blankly at the same spot. The physical relaxation was simply cosmic. My muscles were constantly aching from my constant physical work and marathons, but suddenly, all the pain vanished. My body felt like it was wrapped in a heavy lead blanket. The shambling started to become intense, and it was physically impossible to open my eyes wider than a slit. I tried to focus on the TV screen, but the picture was a little blurry. I was in a state of complete indifference and absolute peace. I just sat there, grinning like a fool, and genuinely enjoying how powerfully I was pinned to the couch. I periodically experienced funny moments: I went to the bedroom to get my charger, forgot why I got up halfway there, stood in the middle of the hallway for a long time, and ended up returning with a cup of tea that I don't even remember when I brewed it.

⏱ 01:20 - 02:40 — Subsidence. The effects begin to subside slowly, very gently. The thick fog in my head clears, my thoughts become clear again, but my body still feels incredibly heavy, lazy, and relaxed. I don't even want to get up. I'm so desperate for food that my stomach starts growling loudly throughout the room. I realize I'm just too lazy to cook right now; I don't have the energy to stand at the stove. I leisurely finished my tea and binged on YouTube videos. The after-effects are very mild—a slight drowsiness, total relaxation in every muscle, and an even mood. No worries or paranoia, everything went perfectly. ✌️

Trip report about Gold Hash from Guevara's Green House Charleroi


A little more carefully this time, so as not to overdo it, I made fewer balls and smoked through this glass contraption.

Two pipes were enough for me; I stopped in time, and later, it gently kicked up another puff, covering it...
And it turned out fine; I didn't overdo it.
Be careful with it.
So, my friend showed up, and we started smoking it, which was more delicious, since getting high alone was boring.

My friend also appreciated this product.
It's a fucking smoke.
After two pipes, the guy stopped smoking, "Enough!"

After a while, it...
It presses down, there's a slight, heavy draw afterwards, but not noticeable.

The next day, continuing this theme, I'm writing to you, guys.

So, I put the half-smoked leftovers in front of me, and since there was no tobacco, I stifled the crumbs I'd cut with a large cleaver for some reason, and sprinkled it on.
I smashed it into a familiar contraption for a couple of seconds!

Mmm...
I'm writing this report at lunchtime, barely able to pull myself together.
I can tell you, it's cool outside.
Just as cool inside!!
Saved ✌️

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