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SNEAKY LEAF'S DIARY OF A DEALER - ZEN AND THE ART OF WEED DEALING

Every tax-paying citizen has an armed militia protecting their private property. If someone steals or threatens that property, the police will jail or blow the head off of anyone resisting or threatening them. As a weed dealer, I don't have that protection.

If I'm ripped off while selling weed, I have two choices: A) Play the tough guy and hire scary guys to scare the shit out of whoever is fucking with me, or B) I can just take my losses and get the fuck away from thieves and whoever introduced me to them. I always choose to just let it go. I don't carry a weapon, haven't been in a fight since sixth grade, and am supplied by unarmed, nice-guy weed brokers. Although, I have never spoken like this to anyone (even to a thief), here's what I feel like saying to rip-off artists but never can:

"You want to lie to my fucking face after you stole from me? You sack of dog shit! I'm going to cut your lying fuckhole of a mouth off and shove it down your shit-spewing throat using an ice pick. Then I'll slice your greasy shit-wad guts wide the fuck open, grab that mess of entrails, and stuff them down your sewer-hole throat. You stupid fuck! And I'll do all this to you while you're still alive! Then I'm going to spit in your fucking face and stab you in the brain right through your goddamn eyeballs! Then I will hack you to fucking pieces, stomp you into a mud hole, dig that mess up, and send that sack of fuck to your mother!"

I am risking my freedom and risking being beaten, raped, and maybe even killed to serve my clients. I treat them with the upmost respect, honor, and graciousness. So the level of rage I feel is unreal when someone rips me off and bullshits me to my face. But I never do! This job has taught me patience, restraint, and that any expression of hatred or violence will contaminate my own soul. Tibetan monks won't publicly utter a single word of condemnation towards their ruthless Chinese oppressors. Some Tibetan children were forced by Chinese adult military to hold a gun, shoot, and murder their own parents. And yet, still, the monks won't utter a single word of hatred toward their tormentors.

I stay small-time because I like being free, and I prefer a lifestyle that comes with a modest income over being rich, flashy, and eventually incarcerated. I genuinely love people, especially good-time people who love to live, laugh, and love. And the love I feel for most of my clients is real. I genuinely take immense pleasure in really satisfying a customer. I feel really torn up if I make a mistake—I'll give free weed to clients to compensate. I also give clients free weed when they do something extra awesome! If the vibe of their personality is super respectful, fun, and inviting, I sometimes give free weed to people simply because their soul is so lovely and they deserve an extra portion of love in the form of ganja!