No fixed destination in mind
Er…Okay, to begin. Don’t understand it. I decided it would be a good idea to take up Chris’s invitation to go to RJ’s (the local scally club) to join the A level results celebration. Oh yeah right. Dirt! After meeting with Gaz and Dan we went to see Mike Wit on this sunny and warm day instead of decaying in Dan’s dark bedroom watching too many monitor screens. They had a fairly new house that I had not acquainted before and it was interesting to say a fair amount. Mike came in from a short keif journey and made it to the newly-extended kitchen, where he proceeded to divide the magic using a nice set of scales and a sharp knife. I was impressed. To express my response to this ounce of beauty I told him how to make an alcohol concentrate, so who knows where he will find himself when that goes down the hatch! Probably face to face with the dancing colours of God’s retina. Anyway, we made our talk and catch-up and left, where we found ourselves on a direct route to as many gardening outlets as we could remember in search of magic seeds of which we had discussed with Mike. After some Doors-filled Mini travel, the product was sought, gotten, and we promptly made our way back home to grind the LSA product. This took ages. Then, we went our temporary separate ways and got back together at Chris’s to get a taxi to RJs. Bad waves of paranoia. Fear and loathing on a grand scale. At the club now. It came on slow. In five minutes Dan had left, and Gaz and I sat on stools and watched the play unfold. The music was grating and harsh. The number of people, the livestock, the flaunting dance, increased at a steady pace. This got tense. I fought nausea. Strange pseudo-insights ensued. After speaking incoherence to Chris and his friends we left – or attempted to. For a moment we couldn’t get out, we were imprisoned, and then a bouncer picked up on our disorientation and opened the door to outside liberation, which we took forthwith.
The long walk home was eager and deliberate. We laughed in manic pitch about our state of consciousness and kept stopping to look up at pockets of stars then remembering we had to keep walking to meet Dan at the Lifeguard house at the end of the promenade. This was a conflict of interests that continued to delay our passage through the black path of night that receded before us. Finally we got to our meeting point but Dan wasn’t there. Our inability to make a concrete decision and act on it was intensified, but somehow we thought it right to keep walking around the area. Motion felt right, while moments of stillness were mysteriously awkward. Soon, Dan showed up and took the opportunity to play paranoia-games by stalking in hooded disguise a few yards behind us, until my reason took over and I called to the dark figure by its rightful name. I don’t remember ever having certitude in my belief it was him. I can’t say.
Now there were three of us the whole route of communication was less clearly decipherable and we experienced a variety of non-starter conversations and inane quipping. We moved cautiously to the nearby park and initiated a small camp on a grassy hilltop. There we talked about the present moment and ‘it’, while silence was beauty and the quiet whirr of a distant car was the soft spoken Om of the universe.
A vehicle drove down the dirt path leading into the nearby field. Caution caught on the wings of passing judgement, and we carefully left our hilltop muse to walk with no fixed destination in mind. We ended up at Gaz’s place, but a social confusion took over and everyone left quite soon. The effect continued for most of the night and came on in waves. It made me think of the sea lapping at the end of my street in the still truth of the illuminated moon.
If I were the only boy in the world and you were the only girl.
The long walk home was eager and deliberate. We laughed in manic pitch about our state of consciousness and kept stopping to look up at pockets of stars then remembering we had to keep walking to meet Dan at the Lifeguard house at the end of the promenade. This was a conflict of interests that continued to delay our passage through the black path of night that receded before us. Finally we got to our meeting point but Dan wasn’t there. Our inability to make a concrete decision and act on it was intensified, but somehow we thought it right to keep walking around the area. Motion felt right, while moments of stillness were mysteriously awkward. Soon, Dan showed up and took the opportunity to play paranoia-games by stalking in hooded disguise a few yards behind us, until my reason took over and I called to the dark figure by its rightful name. I don’t remember ever having certitude in my belief it was him. I can’t say.
Now there were three of us the whole route of communication was less clearly decipherable and we experienced a variety of non-starter conversations and inane quipping. We moved cautiously to the nearby park and initiated a small camp on a grassy hilltop. There we talked about the present moment and ‘it’, while silence was beauty and the quiet whirr of a distant car was the soft spoken Om of the universe.
A vehicle drove down the dirt path leading into the nearby field. Caution caught on the wings of passing judgement, and we carefully left our hilltop muse to walk with no fixed destination in mind. We ended up at Gaz’s place, but a social confusion took over and everyone left quite soon. The effect continued for most of the night and came on in waves. It made me think of the sea lapping at the end of my street in the still truth of the illuminated moon.
If I were the only boy in the world and you were the only girl.
posted by Tim at 2:34 AM
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