Thursday, May 28, 2009

"Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape."

Yeah, the sands, soft and shifting.
I watched it at the beach today.
I think that most people were watching the waves break and roll back into the Pacific. I watched the sand, though. It glittered a little, like that, and broke when no one was looking.
When I looked closely I could see each grain and thought of how I am like them; small, surrounded but alone, formed by that which surrounds me.
Wreck Beach had not lost its fame on me.
I walked alone beside the wall of rocks on the South end of the beach.
Every 5 feet I would stop and puke-up last night's whiskey, only to wash away the taste with more whiskey. I stopped puking after about 50 feet from the crowd; it must have looked like I was inspecting the rocks, as I stooped and bent and held the form, retching. Take that, Savaroopa Yoga.
I bought $40 of chocolate mushrooms off of a guy named "Fred". Fred was naked and anxious about the drugs. I heard that the police were around that week end, having just found a body 30 feet from the shore a day ago. There was no word as to whether it was homicide, or not.
I thought again of the sands beneath me and wished he didn't have to be my friend; "...just sell me the drugs and fuck off, o.k.?"
He was cool and bailed, but his detractors were out in form, "He sells shit, man" one said. "Did you get high? Huh? Huh?", another pestered me for an hour.
"If you need some dope, man, I'm your guy", he said, "that fucker's a con."
Yeah, when hippies turn on each other then I am sure to know that it's all money.
Money makes us all pigs, rolling in our own shit.
I rolled and then fucked off; $40 worth of even the worst mushrooms was still a trip to never-never land.
I drove home like that, thinking it was a Star Wars battle, stoned and unsure.
I didn't crash and even parked smooth; I slid it in and it fit like I had used a some alien protractor.
Smooth like that. Cool like that. A man, like that.
I can't wait to see you again.
If I am drugged-up or drunk-out, never mind.
I will always love you no matter how tough the battle in here is.
Steve, Dwayne, Darren and Fish.

My Marx Brothers.

I love you.


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