Last week, I was walking in the mist of Niagara Falls, and I didn’t care! I had consistently loved Niagara Falls, and whenever I had any problems, I would head to Toronto, Ontario and stand by the fencing that kept people back from Niagara Falls; Standing on the deck was enough to recognize the mist as it hit your face.
Ever since I moved to Toronto, Ontario, I felt care about I was not where I should be. I could never make Toronto, Ontario a tploy home, and every fiber in our being wanted to return to our loft city, where our parents, family, and a bestie lived. The night I walked in the mist of Niagara Falls, I was at our lowest. I had gone to the local marijuana shop and purchased pre-roll marijuana cigarettes and some edibles. I wanted to get high and not recognize anything. Instead of not feeling anything, our feelings surfaced, and when I realized the mist on our cheeks was not from Niagara Falls, but because I was crying, I knew it was time for me to pack up and leave Toronto, Ontario, and go back home. I guess some people will tell you that marijuana is a drug and it should all be illegal. I also guess that being able to relax and guess with the use of legal marijuana, I could find our tploy feelings that were locked deep inside, and no job, or amount of currency, should have been able to take me away from our loft and put me in Toronto, Ontario, where I knew no 1.