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A childhood belief about drugs

When I was 5 my dad grew marijuana in his room and I'd always go inside and take a look at it. It was a tall beautiful green plant with an aroma that was TO DIE FOR. I asked my dad what it was and he said it was his garden that I couldn't look at anymore, but I'd always walk in and watch him prunning buds of the plant and weighing them out. I thought that since it was his garden these were the fruits that it bore. So I thought pot was a fruit of some type and dad was putting it in our dinner.

— Mike

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