The thing with drugs is — the effects of them will seep through the narrow gaps of your hardened brick wall. The one that took you so long to build. The one you spend so much time between there and now. Between the line and the smoke. It can take months, years even. But after a while, the stones will begin to sag and the cement will weaken, letting the thought of your body being kissed by the ghost while high on marijuana overpower the rest of the consciousness. 