Diamond Dust by H.O.C.

toasted n’ posted proudly presents…

Diamond Dust by House of Cultivar

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Diamond Dust by House of Cultivar

Welcome back to toasted n’ posted where the top shelf herb gets roasted. Today, we will be getting dazed while we appraise Diamond Dust. Diamond Dust, also known as OGKB #3, is one I’ve been dying to try. I’ve been on a huge OG Kushbreath kick lately and I would even go as far to consider it to be my standing favorite of the Kush family. OGKB is renowned as being intensely sativa-dominant, but in my experience, the ground shaking body high is impossible to overlook. This strain is the next progression in a delicious chain of Girl Scout Cookies being fused with various faces of OG Kush. I’m excited to see what nuances will step out and perform in this latest production from House of Cultivar.

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I cautiously unscrew the volatile vessel, knowing what horrors may lie in wait. Much to my surprise my boldness was applauded by plumes of feathery sweet citrus. The tangy pulp is infused and emphasized by a gassy, creamy, froth. I feel as if I’d scraped the top curds off of a vanilla milkshake and flicked them onto a lemon. I am charred and charmed by the blistering swells of citrus zest. I cringe as the sick slurry peaks, drowning me in the magnitude of its sour essence. I feel it eroding away at my membranes, I hope I acclimate quickly.

Wave after wave, the puckering forces drive my sensory system into shock. My nose feels that it is being calloused by the carving limonene blisters. At the bed of the seething song is a satisfying clap of moist, muddy, candy. The wet earth seeps through my palette bringing the intensity of the profile down a few octaves. The weighted reduction mimics a purposeful cocoa clap. The culmination is like chocolate chip cookies pummeled into a lake of sour lemon Fabreeze. I find myself addicted to the punishingly sweet song of Diamond Dust. This is one of the first strains that I can honestly say that the ‘Cookie’ influence is boldly apparent. Chocolate plus a stimulating, leafy, nutty, herbal brevity laced through a muddy pseudo-confectionary. What a sweet baked treat!

In hopes of seeing exactly how ‘a cookie crumbles’, I tear apart the largest nuggets under my nose. I experience a wild exaggeration in the direction of a repulsively sweet, sticky, sappy, citrus gas. The vile vapors become so pungent that they entertain a vicious ‘glue’ component. Like lemonade cast into a drum of high quality paste, I feel myself gradually become dizzy from hanging over the fragrant storm. A bubbling lime carries my raft to shore, the wind continues to wind across a mountain ridge. Wafting candied moisture cast upon a wind-whipped field of untouched pasture. The smell alone will whisk you away to moments of nostalgia from a life of ‘living down on the prairie.’

Diamond Dust pours out of the jar just like its name suggests. Tumbling out of the glass come hairy, bulbous, mounds decorated in resiny brilliance. Blonde stigmas weave across the faces of the flower leaving very little untouched. Underneath the golden tan tendrils are awkward mounds of foliage stacking like stone sculptures toward the sky. The bizarre peaks prod out randomly, rounding out the flower through a strained average of these polarities.

These lumpy kernels sparkle in close competition of the finest gemstones, an unshakeable glimmer flickers in riotous reflection across every visible fiber. Some shelves of verdancy have been completely consumed by the off-white glaciers. Many stalks stand abnormally long with their heads in tact, the color ranges from a crystal clear to a milky foamy white.

A rich salad of color lay beneath the glistening glands. Electrified moss gives way to piercing pear, emerald, and pine. The spectrum of vibrant greens provide countless highlights to the sparkling trichomes. The underside of every petal is sandblasted with glorious resin imbuing the presentation with ghostly sylvan aura. The shades of green seem to faller into deeper saturations when I allow the trichomes to draw my focus. It is like watching the shadows of a night sky crawl in behind the stars.

Diamond Dust demonstrates forceful density, though it is a touch fluffier than I expected. Perhaps this variety indeed leans towards its sativa inclinations? A net of armored kernels woven together by sweet webs and coarse hairs. The dense clusters of petals feel as if I can pluck them out from their natural gravity-defying suspension. I slowly disassemble the unruly chain of frosty meteors from their star belt.





Leaf to flame, my lips are scorched by a serrated wind of sweet earth and a peppery herbal musk. The torrent continues to groom its ferocity into an eye-watering stream of diluted cream. The blistering bolt ushers in an era of incendiary candy. Underneath the smoldering bricks is a sour slide that seems to offset some of the fiery friction. It was as if tumbleweeds doused with gasoline and lemonade drink mix then set on fire and hurled at my mouth.

The initially delicate citrus impression wields a stern, stabbing resolve. The powdered assertion is absurdly sweet and enchanted by a benign chill. I feel as if my tongue had been pierced by an icicle composed solely of citrus-derived sugar. Beneath the battering icicle, is a bed of crackling pepper. I grit my teeth as I slip from the hanging sweet stalagmite and free-fall onto the challenging intensity of this note. I find that the longer I endure the singeing dry provocations, I am rewarded with a sticky, sweet, salve. Eventually a manageable balance between the flavors is achieved and I find a comfortable nook within the equilibrium. Submitting my throat to be roasted endlessly by the sweet sylvan symphony, I hold no regrets.

As I slip into the embrace of Diamond Dust, I feel a thick veil of distorted comfort fall over my face like a hot towel. My perspective becomes isolated and the warm fibers of the invisible cloth insulate the mechanics of my mind. My perception feels enhanced despite the fact that several of my senses are cloaked and incapacitated. My vision blurs as my eyes abandon all pressure and control.

My sensory system continues to fall into a lackadaisical stupor, but I feel my neck and throat propped up by an awkward invisible brace. While the design of Diamond Dust thus far seems to dwell on goals of utter annihilation; the high feels structured around priming the user to become ever more effectively incapacitated. My body is charmed by the internal tailspin as I plummet towards the depths of my being.

At the core of the high I find a hanging, warm, numbness coaxed along by a sedative fog with a velvet touch. The walls of humbling humidity continue to build, I feel myself oppressively weighed down by its benevolent love. I feel my heart slow to the pace of a sloth having fever dreams. Tossing myself into a rut dug into a mound of cool mud. Mindlessly rolling back and forth, delving deeper into a trench inebriating redundancy.

My mind continues to burrow into itself at any rate. My physical senses are teetering on the edges of delirium, smothered by the fanned fumes of choking euphoria. I become emotionally and spiritually blind, left with no other choice but to tunnel through my inner self. Miraculously I uncover a glimmer of light at the dark depths. I manage to carry out my solitary quest to discover a shadowed shard of enlightenment.

While my mind is warm with the afterglow of achievement, physically, I felt as if I was wading through extremely dense water. Born by this sense of encumbrance, it is becoming substantially difficult to write with any sense of coherency. I feel like my words are spilling haphazardly across the page, my spirit too overtaken to be bothered with correcting them. Even in this well-lit room, I feel as if I’m still peering through the depths of a dark tunnel. The power of Diamond Dust seems to consume me, equipping me with the tools to appreciate its prowess and little else.

Wow, what a pulverizing high offered by Diamond Dust. If it reduces to diamonds to dust…perhaps I should’ve thought about that level of pressure. Poor puns aside, the chilling resistance I experienced physically is met equivocally by a mind-numbing warmth. My entire being has become a column of stressed contrast between these two poles. Without regard, I dive into the realm of honed sour spice without hesitation. After some time my body learns to love the unique brand of punishment and disorienting augmentations sewn into Diamond Dust. As always, thanks for reading.

Diamond Dust Score: 92/100 Points

Stay high and stay blessed,

Kushman Bonglegs

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