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Full Moon Seeds. Just saying the name feels like a whisper from some back-alley grower who knows too much. These aren’t your average couch-lock, Netflix-and-nap kind of beans. Nah. These are wild. Born in the hills of Thailand—no joke—they carry that tropical, electric madness in their DNA. You don’t grow Full Moon to chill. You grow it to ride lightning.
First time I smoked a Full Moon strain? Felt like my brain got yanked out the back of my skull and flung into a rave on Mars. Colors got louder. Time got weird. I laughed at a pencil for 15 minutes. Not proud, just honest. It’s a pure sativa, or close enough to make you forget what day it is. And the high? Sharp. Not soft and fuzzy. It’s like someone scrubbed your thoughts with lemon juice and static electricity.
Growing it’s a whole different beast. These seeds aren’t for lazy growers or folks who want fast results. They take their sweet time—12, 13 weeks to flower. But damn, when they bloom? It’s like a jungle exploded in your grow tent. Tall, lanky, stretching like they’re trying to touch the moon they’re named after. You’ll need space. And patience. And maybe a ladder.
Smell-wise? Think citrus zest mixed with something spicy and a little funky. Like lemongrass got into a fight with black pepper and mango. Not subtle. Not polite. It punches you in the nostrils and dares you to complain.
Some folks say it’s too much. Too racy. Too intense. And yeah, if you’re prone to anxiety or just want to melt into your couch—look elsewhere. This isn’t the strain for gentle evenings. This is for dancing barefoot at 3am, painting your walls with neon, writing manifestos you’ll forget by morning.
But if you want something different—something raw, unfiltered, borderline psychedelic—Full Moon might just be your jam. It’s not trendy. Not beginner-friendly. Doesn’t care about your terpene charts or THC percentages. It’s old-school jungle weed, and it hits like it means it.
Honestly? I love it. Not every day. Not even every week. But once in a while, when the sky’s clear and the world feels too damn normal—I crack a jar, roll one up, and let Full Moon take me somewhere strange.
And that’s the whole point, isn’t it?