DAN TRIES INCREDIBLES: STRAWBERRY CRUNCH BAR!
It's that time again. I'm back and doing a review on yet another Incredibles product. What can I say? When I say I want to try a range, it means I wanna try a range. On today's review, I'm trying the Strawberry Crunch bar. I've been waiting to find this one close to me and I finally did! I'm a strawberry addict, so I knew this was a must. I'm more of a dark chocolate and strawberry fan and as you know, less of a white chocolate fan, but eh. Let's jump in. Its's white chocolate with bits of crisp rice and real strawberry bits infused with THC. I love the colour scheme of the packaging. I don't think I've mentioned this before, but I love product packaging. The cooler, the better. It's got this warm pinky, yellowish colour to the background label which really contrasts the silver of the packaging. I wonder if it's going to have a strong pot taste seeing as strawberry is a delicate flavour. Let's do this. It's the palest pink I've ever seen. I was expecting it to be a vibrant, almost violent electric pink. It's a cute pastel...kinda just had my mind blown by this plot twist.
All I want to do is high and let the world fall away from me. This is one high that I really needed; it was more than just wanting to try a new product. I want that inability to feel real to consume me once again. I want to nestle down in the fog so maybe I can get some restful fucking sleep finally. Pretty much anything that helps me or forces me to feel something other than what I usually do I'll be down to try it.
Marijuana opens my mind in ways that are mindblowing. I remember things, piece of my identity that has been buried beneath layers of anxiety, self-doubt and self-hatred fall away. I'm confident, I like myself. I'm able to dig through everything that's ever made me, me and understand life in a new sense. I can explore my memories, crisp and vivid. They help me to see why I am the way that I am. The good. The bad. The indifferent. Sometimes I'm able to taste the memory. It feels like pure electricity pulsing through my veins. I'm able to physically feel what I felt that day. I connect emotionally into these past versions of myself, watching these events unfold as if I were in some sort of 3-D film. I don't know what to make of all of it.
I remember it raining. Soft sheets of rain caressed the windows of the room. I laid under the cream and pale green duvet. Mysteries of the ancient world plays on the tv in front of me, but I'm only half paying attention. It feels like the water is splashing against me. I don't know why but all of a sudden I'm afraid I'm going to drown. I don't feel safe. Tears are welling up in my eyes. I grit my teeth and I start to taste blood. I must have bit my cheek but I'm too numb to feel it. I cry out for someone to love me, to want me, to hold me. My entire body trembles with both longing and fear. Everything feels so empty. How could anything be as empty as me? I'm a monstrous being who serves no purpose, hidden within a human form.
A map of the world is illuminated across my skin. My adventures, my travels, my wants and desires paint themselves across me. I'm all about the chills and thrills. The purples of the desert mountains are hypnotising...I can almost taste their colour in the back of my throat...black raspberry. It's rich and creamy, like that flavour of melted icecream. I moan out in ecstasy, wanting to taste more. The heat of the shower's water against my skin is intoxicating, only stimulating me more. The scene of the soap fills my lungs, having flowers bloom deep within them. I'm becoming a living garden. My own ecosystem. In a way, aren't we all just consciousness housed within an ecosystem? The idea sends a wave of panic through me. What if I'm just here to house these viruses and bacteria? What if the only reason I'm here is to be farmed by plants and trees?
I lean back and it feels like I'm falling backwards through a forest of trees. I should be terrified but I'm calm. I'm actually tired. When I hit the ground I can sleep. I wait for it, but it never comes. I land not on the wet, damp earth of the forest but a soft cloud. I soak down into it, my fatigue slowly moving through my body like sludge. I close my eyes and everything fades to grey.
My upbringing has given me a thick set of armour. It's made me indestructible. I'm able to crumble and build myself back up again. My self-reliance is one of the things I happen to actually like about myself. For the longest time, I thought all children lived like this. That all families were like mine, I just didn't get to see it because I wasn't a member of that family. Finding out there were really close loving families, like the ones I saw on tv, floored me.
I glance out the window and see the street light flickering. It feels like me. Trying to be seen. The desperation in the flickering of the street light is the same desperation I see inside myself. The desire to break free, to be something, to shine...The bass vibrations echo through my skull, Post Malone's vocals echoing through my spine. His verses twist through my psyche, resonating with me as if he'd written the song just for me. My stomach flip flops. I look out the window again seeing the grey of a daylight sky creeping up. The leafless tree looks decaying and haunting. I have the overwhelming urge to cry. My sorrow comes from a place of childhood, from a place of missing, from the cracks in my humanity. I'm being reminded of my bipolar disorder more and more lately. I almost can't stand it. Lately, it's just been in the back of my mind as my frustration grows. My resentment for being sick. My anger for being sick. My frustration for being sick. And all the while being unable to control me. Unable to heal me. I almost want to be sick just so I can let some of this tension out of me. Punching myself, throwing myself into the wall, cutting myself, forcing myself to vomit, slamming my wrists, all punishments because I'm sick. I think I deserve this. My thinking with this is completely warped.
Everything about him gets me off. I want to tell him to settle down but nothing he could ever do could reduce the temptation. Strawberries, cream and THC, but nowhere as sweet and stimulating as your inner thighs. Thinking about your thickness every minute of every day. I toss and turn knowing that I'll never be able to express all that I feel for you. The clock is ticking and my addiction to you worsens every day. I want to run my tongue down his throat, then work my tongue all across his collarbones. I wanna nibble that little bit of chubb on his chest. I want to own that softness; every inch of him is to be mine. I want to consume his chaos, feel his waves deep within me. I want him to gnaw every inch of me while giving himself completely to me. Power twists into my pleasure. I close my eyes, using my senses of smell, touch, taste and hearing to own him. Moans escape his pale pink lips, washing over me, my sweat drips down onto him, mingling with his own. I need for him to be on top of me. I want to feel his weight on top of me. I need to feel his stomach crushing into mine, his heavy pelvis resting against mine, engulfing me...
I wake up but I feel out of it. My body feels loose and my mind feels like it's layered with a thick fog. My depression is settling back in and I'm not sure why. It feels slightly different from before. I stare at the bottle of antidepressants on the bedside table. It stares back at me. It's supposed to be filled with hope and promise but so far I've felt no difference. I'm still trying to crawl out of myself in desperation. It's only been two weeks on the new medication. I know I have to stay on it longer to see any sort of improvement, but is this really what I want? A life of endless prescriptions? None of the psychiatric drugs I've taken in the past has helped me, no matter the dosage or the combination. Maybe there is no cure for me. Maybe this is my fate.
I don't know if I can be conscious through this day. Memories hang over me and leave me with the strange sensation rattling through me. I'm feeling my emotions deeper on a physical level than I have in a while. It feels like I'm being torn apart by my emotional state, yet I can't even put into words the way that I feel. It's like every single feeling a human can feel is running through me right now. I don't know why I'm so overwhelmed right now. I've never been like this when I wake up. Everything seems so loud. Everything feels so loud. I need to go back to sleep and hopefully, when I wake up again I won't feel like this. The idea of sleep is blissful.
Marijuana opens my mind in ways that are mindblowing. I remember things, piece of my identity that has been buried beneath layers of anxiety, self-doubt and self-hatred fall away. I'm confident, I like myself. I'm able to dig through everything that's ever made me, me and understand life in a new sense. I can explore my memories, crisp and vivid. They help me to see why I am the way that I am. The good. The bad. The indifferent. Sometimes I'm able to taste the memory. It feels like pure electricity pulsing through my veins. I'm able to physically feel what I felt that day. I connect emotionally into these past versions of myself, watching these events unfold as if I were in some sort of 3-D film. I don't know what to make of all of it.
I remember it raining. Soft sheets of rain caressed the windows of the room. I laid under the cream and pale green duvet. Mysteries of the ancient world plays on the tv in front of me, but I'm only half paying attention. It feels like the water is splashing against me. I don't know why but all of a sudden I'm afraid I'm going to drown. I don't feel safe. Tears are welling up in my eyes. I grit my teeth and I start to taste blood. I must have bit my cheek but I'm too numb to feel it. I cry out for someone to love me, to want me, to hold me. My entire body trembles with both longing and fear. Everything feels so empty. How could anything be as empty as me? I'm a monstrous being who serves no purpose, hidden within a human form.
A map of the world is illuminated across my skin. My adventures, my travels, my wants and desires paint themselves across me. I'm all about the chills and thrills. The purples of the desert mountains are hypnotising...I can almost taste their colour in the back of my throat...black raspberry. It's rich and creamy, like that flavour of melted icecream. I moan out in ecstasy, wanting to taste more. The heat of the shower's water against my skin is intoxicating, only stimulating me more. The scene of the soap fills my lungs, having flowers bloom deep within them. I'm becoming a living garden. My own ecosystem. In a way, aren't we all just consciousness housed within an ecosystem? The idea sends a wave of panic through me. What if I'm just here to house these viruses and bacteria? What if the only reason I'm here is to be farmed by plants and trees?I lean back and it feels like I'm falling backwards through a forest of trees. I should be terrified but I'm calm. I'm actually tired. When I hit the ground I can sleep. I wait for it, but it never comes. I land not on the wet, damp earth of the forest but a soft cloud. I soak down into it, my fatigue slowly moving through my body like sludge. I close my eyes and everything fades to grey.
My upbringing has given me a thick set of armour. It's made me indestructible. I'm able to crumble and build myself back up again. My self-reliance is one of the things I happen to actually like about myself. For the longest time, I thought all children lived like this. That all families were like mine, I just didn't get to see it because I wasn't a member of that family. Finding out there were really close loving families, like the ones I saw on tv, floored me.
I glance out the window and see the street light flickering. It feels like me. Trying to be seen. The desperation in the flickering of the street light is the same desperation I see inside myself. The desire to break free, to be something, to shine...The bass vibrations echo through my skull, Post Malone's vocals echoing through my spine. His verses twist through my psyche, resonating with me as if he'd written the song just for me. My stomach flip flops. I look out the window again seeing the grey of a daylight sky creeping up. The leafless tree looks decaying and haunting. I have the overwhelming urge to cry. My sorrow comes from a place of childhood, from a place of missing, from the cracks in my humanity. I'm being reminded of my bipolar disorder more and more lately. I almost can't stand it. Lately, it's just been in the back of my mind as my frustration grows. My resentment for being sick. My anger for being sick. My frustration for being sick. And all the while being unable to control me. Unable to heal me. I almost want to be sick just so I can let some of this tension out of me. Punching myself, throwing myself into the wall, cutting myself, forcing myself to vomit, slamming my wrists, all punishments because I'm sick. I think I deserve this. My thinking with this is completely warped.
Everything about him gets me off. I want to tell him to settle down but nothing he could ever do could reduce the temptation. Strawberries, cream and THC, but nowhere as sweet and stimulating as your inner thighs. Thinking about your thickness every minute of every day. I toss and turn knowing that I'll never be able to express all that I feel for you. The clock is ticking and my addiction to you worsens every day. I want to run my tongue down his throat, then work my tongue all across his collarbones. I wanna nibble that little bit of chubb on his chest. I want to own that softness; every inch of him is to be mine. I want to consume his chaos, feel his waves deep within me. I want him to gnaw every inch of me while giving himself completely to me. Power twists into my pleasure. I close my eyes, using my senses of smell, touch, taste and hearing to own him. Moans escape his pale pink lips, washing over me, my sweat drips down onto him, mingling with his own. I need for him to be on top of me. I want to feel his weight on top of me. I need to feel his stomach crushing into mine, his heavy pelvis resting against mine, engulfing me...
I wake up but I feel out of it. My body feels loose and my mind feels like it's layered with a thick fog. My depression is settling back in and I'm not sure why. It feels slightly different from before. I stare at the bottle of antidepressants on the bedside table. It stares back at me. It's supposed to be filled with hope and promise but so far I've felt no difference. I'm still trying to crawl out of myself in desperation. It's only been two weeks on the new medication. I know I have to stay on it longer to see any sort of improvement, but is this really what I want? A life of endless prescriptions? None of the psychiatric drugs I've taken in the past has helped me, no matter the dosage or the combination. Maybe there is no cure for me. Maybe this is my fate.I don't know if I can be conscious through this day. Memories hang over me and leave me with the strange sensation rattling through me. I'm feeling my emotions deeper on a physical level than I have in a while. It feels like I'm being torn apart by my emotional state, yet I can't even put into words the way that I feel. It's like every single feeling a human can feel is running through me right now. I don't know why I'm so overwhelmed right now. I've never been like this when I wake up. Everything seems so loud. Everything feels so loud. I need to go back to sleep and hopefully, when I wake up again I won't feel like this. The idea of sleep is blissful.
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