Amsterdam First Time Psychologist's Experience

"I checked out many of the souvenir shops, hoping to find one from France, where I was supposed to be. Looking for an anomaly..."

Wildly differing from the virtual prisons of London and New York, the pubs can serve alcohol at the early hour of 10am and prostitutes are available until after midnight. The tourist district is almost perfectly arranged, in a capitalist sort if way, with a misleading maze of shops housing the red light district that offers cannabis, sex and other sightseeing opportunities unavailable in the other, more offensive, regions of the world.

Amsterdam is Europe's tallest standing and solitary-seeming pillar of debauchery: a place that primarily still exists to show the people of its surrounding nations what they are missing out on. 

To go there is to experience a world of extortionately expensive freedom, bankrupting in both finance, traditional pride and societal decency. You can do the acts of a ‘devil’ here without any kind of legislative repercussion - yet, if you do those things elsewhere you may lose your freedom altogether.

Looking to turn a prostitute into a wife, I wandered the district for hours, in search of the undeniable. Sadly, there are many prostitutes who will refuse service to certain men for certain reasons, lumping black faces (presumably paired with the preconception of a painful monster-cock) into the same denied group as unwashed vagrants. You may be surprised at the tightness of some of their boxes.

One comforting revelation is how the environment has manifested a difference in the mentalities of the pigeons, that which may be called intellectual progression, with their seemingly preferred on-foot fearless weaving - which is un-wavered by passers-by, apes attempting toe-punts or the risks of traffic. Often attempting to hold forts on the sidewalks on the allowance of the people who respect their rightful positioning as hosts of equal residence and right.

Ultimately, the first trip around the unsatisfyingly small strip gets old fast, its winding corridors become uninteresting and lose all novelty and variety within a matter of mere hours. Two days should feel like enough or too much. After 2 or more days straight of incessant weed smoking, it should seem unhealthy to not want a day of rest.

While the main attractions can be seen in around an hour, you can spend much time going to museums or nightclubs – of course, as you could do at home, the main difference is that you can smoke Ganja in some of them. From expansive ranges, you’re able to buy the herbs from coffee shops at roughly the same price as from your local dealer. Despite the industrial-sized factory growth of the cannabis, the bud is not cheaper. The Dutch government taxes xxxx.

Is a dangerous place...you can get so enamoured with the attractive soullessness that your aspirations in life diminish and your mind-state changes into an empty sadness from a newly formed void that seems to have no deductible fix other than the momentary or 'permanent' love and admiration of a good woman.

The city surely is beautiful, with many wondrous scenes and, from a short list of activities, a uniquely releasing atmosphere. However, there are a few hazards of disorderly management with the occasional unfenced pile of sand / bricks, dangerously confusing traffic routing and unsafe cyclists. 

"My experience was complete with an introduction to a tree breed that, at that particular summer time of the year, rained down snow-like slow-falling leaves..."

Although the initial main reasons to come, the smoking and the sex, cannot be done for very long without duplicitous pain, the beautiful city is worth the cost of travel and may make you want to emigrate to its peaceful and civil surface.

But Dutch sure is an ugly language….