High on life

Emily Filkin/Staff

For our floormate it’s weed; for the yogi it’s trail mix; for Ke$ha it’s your love. Be it ibuprofen or Mary Jane, everyone’s got their drug — and for us at the Clog, it’s life. That’s right, you heard us. Our personal preference for getting high is this thing called life.

What exactly about life does it for us, you may ask? We scoff at your inquiry. For the real question is: What about life doesn’t get us psyched out of our minds? Here at UC Berkeley, there’s no shortage of everyday experiences that are equivalent to pure ecstasy. It’s the feeling of our heads hitting the pillow after a late night of cramming, the first bite of a Top Dog on Saturday at 2 a.m., and the freedom of handing in our last final in May.

But beyond just the obvious sources of euphoria, there are the smaller daily buzzes that get us through to Friday. Like those few days of sunshine that manage to sneak between the weeks of downpour. When the thrill of stepping outside without an umbrella for the first time in weeks has us free as a bird, and the blessed kiss of warm rays on our blindingly pale arms can warm even the coldest of hearts.

The warm, fuzzy feeling that comes with the exact moment a FaceTime call connects so that we’re able to see the pixelated and grainy face of a friend from home for the first time in a long time is the only high we need on a school night. Nothing can beat the tipsy giddiness that comes with having the house all to ourselves when all of our roommates are gone. The freedom to blast guilty-pleasure tunes while washing our dishes in our underwear without judgment is a high that we never want to come down from.

The thrilling experiences don’t end there. Perfectly timed bus and BART lineups get us all hot and bothered. The rush that we get from arriving at a bus stop mere moments before the 51B rolls up is better than any drink you could offer us.

Some people drop acid, but we drop classes. The liberation that we experience after ditching those units on CalCentral leaves us weightless and floating untethered to this earthly existence. Our new-and-improved schedules offering four more hours of nap time per week is more exciting than LSD will ever be.

We’ve never felt more alive than we do right after scaling the entirety of Bancroft Way. The shortness of breath and feeling of our pulse beating in our fingertips is all the near-death experience we need. We don’t need drugs to push the boundaries of our mortality. Our consuming of an entire Tacos Sinaloa super burrito in one sitting has us fearlessly staring death by stomach explosion in the eye.

No earthly drug experience can beat what we feel when we wake up in the morning and fall back asleep to the sound of rain. No pill that we’re offered could fill us with the happiness of seeing carefree students play ultimate frisbee on Memorial Glade. And no joint we smoke could leave us as stoned out of our mind as we are when you leave Main Stacks after a long night of working, unsure of what year it is and your own first name.

Contact Amanda Chung at [email protected].