Unofficial Sword Swallower

[Originally written 9.19.03]

It happened on Thursday while I was doing my usual ritual of putting a hanger down my throat, when suddenly it went almost all the way down.  You can imagine my inexplicable happiness with this.

Today I managed to get it all the way down; the only part that was sticking out was the curved handle of the hanger, and that was so I could pull it back out.

There is no feeling like it in the world.  The first thing I wanted at that moment was to share my exhiliration with someone who could be proud of my accomplishment.

As thrilled as I am, it seems valueless if I can’t celebrate with someone who understands, and I can’t force people to have that feeling or have them know why this is so important to me.  Either you get it or you don’t, and honestly, most truly just don’t fucking get it.

After not hearing from Jon for a solid week, he invited me down to the Shore.  While I have no idea what he’s been up to, I don’t want to burden him with this torrent of emotion that has plagued me since our last meeting.  Sometimes it seems better to just leave things left unsaid, because there is no doubt he values me as a friend.  He has personal issues that he keeps to himself, and I don’t want to stick my nose into his business.  Nor do I want to overload him with my own.

At least I got to spend time with someone who can be happy for me.  Rolled down to South Jersey in the early evening, listening to my surf mix tapes which aways seem to make that drive go by fast.  It was good to see him and be caught in a huge hug as soon as I walked thru the door.  That was before I even said anything, but as usual he was just glad to see me, explaining that he had taken a trip to the desert and had no way of contacting me.  While he never really has to offer up that kind of information, I do appreciate it.

Then it was down to business, which was me being excited and rambling about how great it felt to swallow a coat hanger.  The smile that lit up his face was phenomenal, and it was followed by even more hugs along with congratulations.  Jon insists that we have to celebrate, so we climb into his Chevy and I have no idea where we were headed but I’m bursting with joy.  When those pine trees came into view, the realization of what the destination was hit me.  Three painful months had passed since we last set foot in the Pine Barrens, having buried our Family because some ignorant assholes felt it was best if they were dead.  In all that time, we never spoke abou the tragedy, tho it always lingered with us.  At the moment it didn’t occur to me why he selected that location, but I know now that it still held meaning for him.

The funny thing about plant life in New Jersey is that it has great resilliency and the ability to repair itself, because we could not tell where that fateful fire had taken place.  We did happen to find a few decaying wooden monuments that had been ued to mark the area; everything else minus a few trees was pretty much the same. 

Jon tenderly took my hand in his, a wide vareity of emotion swelling in his eyes.  It’s not often that he gets so serious, and I knew whatever was about to happen would stick with me forever.  He tells me in his blunt way of speaking how incredibly proud of me he is and that my undying spirit has been motivating him to have he desire to perform more.  The words that followed were filled with passion and were exactly what I needed to hear.  From then on, we would both put forth the effort to carry on the legacy of our Family.

Celebration commenced with a fat blunt, swigs of ‘shine and ‘shroom juice and then an offer of something else I had never done before.  While I have been aware of Jon’s drug use for a while, there are some things we just didn’t share because he respects my choice not to do them.  However, I will not deny that I have been curious, and cetainly smoking ‘proper blunts’ falls into the category of hard drug use compared to just weed or mushrooms.  Sure, we dropped acid on the Wonder Wheel, but that was a special occasion and not something we did ‘for fun’.

So when that white powder made an appearance, there was hesitation on my part.  Jon certainly wasn’t pressuring me, jut merely suggesting that if I really wanted to try it, I had the opportunity to do so.  Of course he would be there for me if any bad feelings arose, and if I didn’t like it, he would be sure not to offer in the future.  That old cliche of you only live once entered my mind, so I said fuck it and took the glass straw from his hand.

Suffice to say we spent hours in the woods, laughing and talking loudly even tho the only things we may have disturbed were the trees, plants and whatever wild life was slinking around.  It was certainly one of the most intese trips I’ve ever had, with strong hallucinations and extreme feelings of euphoria.  By the time the sun came up, Jon was sober enough to drive, tho definitely still stuck in the throng of everything we put into our bodies.  We collapsed in his bed when we returned to his house and stayed that way for most of the day.  It was so incredibly comfortable, and I was in love with how awesome it felt.

Part of me wanted to shar thise with him, but as usual I bit my tongue and kept these thoughts to mysef.  It was hard, especially since he held me close as we waited for sleep.  Now I am unsure of what to say or think, but I know that there will come a point where I have to speak up before I miss my chance to do so.

Coney Island Dreaming

[Originally written 9.13.2003]

This may get long winded, but we make no apologies for that.  If you get bored, just move on.

Firstly, I’m terrible worried about Jon, as I haven’t heard from him in a while, and he had been in touch pretty much every day since we went down to Wildwood together.  Either he had to ‘disappear’ due to certain circumstances, or the more extreme [which I hate to think about or even write for that matte] that he’s…well…riding on the midnite train to slab city.  Or he’s serving as a guest of the government.   Hopefully he will just pop up like always.

Now onto the rambling.

There is really not a definitve starting point.  When I see photos of a place that I dream about, the urge to be there rises.  Every time I go, I never want to leave.  Of course I am talking about Coney Island.

It is a fact that I fell in love with the amusement areas since my first visit as an adult in 2000, and ever since, I can’t seem to keep myself away.  In a way I feel as tho I am addicted, drawn in by everything that just is.  Many hours could be spent reading about the Islands history for days on end, and I would never grow bored.  There is just so much that I find terribly fascinating, that I feel it has taken over me.  Its inisde of me…and it refuses to get out.

It took me a while to figure out what I want to do with my life, and the first time I saw the sideshow there…well…my mind was made up.  Now I live for it; I’ve got sawdust in my veins and I was meant to do this.  A lot of my time is spent working hard in an attempt to be somewhat successful, tho I kind of enjoy the underground charm to performing with Jon and the Outlaw Cirkus.

In all honesty, I don’t think anyone gets Coney Island unless they love it just as much as I do.  It’s not something that you can just put down in words, tho many a poet has tried with brilliant works.  There is something about the Island that reaches out and grabs you; once you are hooked, it’s like you can’t live without being there.  The end of America where millions upon millions of people have passed before; something man couldn’t handle because greed took over and destroyed what was once our most brilliant amusement area, so unique that there will never be anything like it again.

There is a certain feeling that washes over me when I am there.  The sea is what calls me; the urge to have the sand in my shoes and that aroma in my lungs.  The Island has had a rocky history since it was spawned, and yet it still exists while other things are long gone.  There is history all round you there, and you are a part of it.  Have been there at almost every time of day, from early afternoon to the evening to sunset to nite fall.  Have seen the beautful blue sky uninterrupted by any clouds the beach blanketed by snow with dreary grey fluff expanding over my head.

My fondest memory has to be seeing the sun rise.  In the past, had never stayed on the beach long enough to see this, but when I did, something happened to me.  The moment was as perfect as it could get. A sort of bliss settled over me.  There were no worries.  No bills to pay.  No traffic to be annoyed by.  No television or radio.  No distractions.  No ignorant people.  No drama.  No bullshit. Just the sea…and the comfort of my best friend.  Oh how I could sit on that beach and listen to the sea for hours.  The thought has entered my mind on a number of occasions to just say fuck it and live by the sea.

By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea…

As a side note, the sideshow practice has been coming along quite nicely, and I have made great progress with the sword…er, hanger rather.  Got it 3/4 of the way down on Tuesday and laughed myself to tears I was so fucking happy.  Every time I practice I gag less and less, until it starts going down my esophogus, and then it’s vomit time.  There’s nothing like the acrid taste of saliva and bile in the morning.  It makes for a great weight-loss plan, tho.  Of course I have now discovered a whole new meaning to the term deep-throating, and yea…on some level, it feels good in that sexual way.

It’s kind of sad that only one person appreciates my efforts, but I suppose that’s better than feeling like I am wasting my time.  Our performances haven’t been the same since we lost most of the Outlaw Cirkus Family, which is something that still effects both of us two years after the incident, but it’s not easy to get over the deaths of people you loved and cared for.  However, we keep going and doing our thing in order to continue their legacy, even if there are breaks when Jon takes off on his spontaneous adventures.  That’s the way it is between us, tho there are many times I wish he would just take me with him so we could stop pretending that we’re ‘just friends’.  Some day maybe, but for now, I consider myself fortunate to even have him in my life at all, so as usual I just haves to roll with the punches and keep my chin up.

Another Wonderful Vacation

[Originally written 9.12.03]

Since the Asshole was too busy living up to the well-earned moniker, I decided to head down to the Shore and visit Jon instead.  He surprised me with a trip down to Wildwood.

We picked a good weekend to go, because there were bikes [read: motorcycles] everywhere.  Seems we arrived in the middle of Roar to the Shore, wherein there is a mass migration of bikers to the beach.  While rolling to our hotel, every parking lot we passed were packed with bikes.  There were drunken bikers all over the place;  the hotels, the boardwalk, the convenience stores.  It was a nice change from the amount of stupid that usually flock to the Shore, not to mention that they would occasionally stop Jon and myself to compliment our tattoos.  Somehow we wind up getting sucked into a room and wind up partying until three in the a.m.

We still managed to get some much needed rest, tooled around on bikes [of the pedal variety], ate at that fantastic pancake house, watched the waves at nite and discovered the jellyfish in Jersey glow green.  There was also much smoking and consumption of ‘shroom juice, which led to much hilarity when we hit the boardwalk in the evening hour.  Many conversations with random bikers ensued, and no matter what stereotypes are floating around out there, I happened to think that they were all pretty rad guys and dolls.  It was definitely one of the best vacations I’ve ever had at the Shore.

Some time last week I decided to put the holes back in my face, because it’s been feeling too damn naked.  The hole on the left side of my lip was still open, much to my surprize, but the right side wasn’t.  So I fixed that with a needle, and it didn’t hurt as much as I was expecting it to  Unlike the first time it was pierced, by a professional might I mention, it didn’t bleed.  Guess I’m just that good at piercing, but I did serve an apprenticeship, so it’s not like I was bored and radomly stabbing my face.

The piering is completely fine now.  Took out the ring’s because they were bothering me, and I have lovely little red jeweled studs in there now.  It might sound weird, but I have been happier since I did this, and of course I want to do so much more, but I’m supposed to be finding a job, even tho performing with Jon satisfies me more than anything else I can think of.  Why do I want to be a corporate slave that has to play by ‘rules’ in order to earn a paycheck that the goverement is just going to take money from anyway?  It’s so much easier to be myself, take advantage of my body modifications and revel in the satisfacion of having well-deserved cash in my pocket.

In any event, I’ve had some deep thoughts about facial tattoos.  To be honest, I never considered doing this before, mostly due to the fact that I have a habit of changing the way I do my make-up and didn’t think I could tolerate anything permenant on my face…and yet I’m fine with putting holes in it.  Go figure.  Anyway, after meeting Katzen and Enigma, the thought didn’t seem so absurd any more.  Have been inspired since I saw the Lizardman and read what Michael Wilson had to say about his facial tattoos.  Then there’s other awesome people like Eak and Angelica who are just fantastic  and seem to forget they have facial tattoos.

Now I’m not saying I want my entire face covered, but I would like to do my eyebrows so I don’t have to draw them on all the time, and possibly some tribal inspired lines that I currently use make up to create.  People ask me all the time if they are tattoos, so I gues that means I’m doing a good job.  Of course I still want my head inked, and decided to let the spots cascade down my neck and even creep onto my face, tho they would be done in greywash and fade into white so they’re sublte.  The tribal work I’d like would be on my chin, and maybe the bridge of my nose, tho I might want that to be branded instead.  Don’t really know a lot about that so I have to do some research.  In any event,  I did a dawing of what I would potentially look like, including all the modifications I want on my face, and it didn’t look cluttered at all.

Now the only thing left to do is find a job that won’t mind me doing this.  Fat chance, but I like to keep an open mind.  While I know I could apply myself more and get any job, part of me refuses to be that damn desperate.  Especially since Jon is always there for me, encouraging me to keep pursuing sideshow and hustling when we need to.  In all honest, I’ve had more fun this Summer than I have in a while.

Why do I always find myself in this situation?  There’s enough mone to pay what few bills I have, and the rest I use to have fun with my best friend, which is not a bad thing in my opinion.  He definitely opens my mind about things, such as the fact that I don’t need a ‘real job’ to make money and be happy.  Unfortunately money is needed for rent so I can get the fuck out of this house and be on my own, which of course would give me the ability to expand on my sideshow skills.

Some day all of this will change, and I suppose I just have to roll with the punches until it does.  Having Jon there for support means so muchto me, even when he does ‘disappear’ for long periods of time.  No matter what, he’s always going to be my best friend, because he undestands me better than anyone else.  This might be too deep to say but fuck it.  Jon is my whole world and truly I would be lost without him.

P.S. – Carnivale begins its season on HBO this Sunday and I am definitely lookingforward to it.

Adventures in Sideshow

[Originally written 9.1.2003]

Three Fridays ago, I went out to Coney Island.  Even tho I had attempted to update about this a few weeks back, I got kicked out off the computer at the library because someone was waiting to use it.

Anyway, I departed my mom’s house after eight and arrrived at the Island some time after nine.  Took me twenty minutes just to find a place to park.  Roamed around for a while to snap some nite time photos, as I don’t have any that are good, then returned to my car to party with Bacardi.  Once the buzz was going, I took a seat in the bleachers at the sideshow building and watched the Lucky Devil show. A damn spectacular show. It would have been better if the rest of the performers were there and more people came to see the show. The best part had to be Angelica’s flaming pussy.  You just have to see it to appreciate it.

Instead of leaving right away, I decided to hang out for a while.  That’s when I saw Jon and nearly tripped over myself with delight.  He wasted no time coming over to greet me with a giant hug, which literally lifted me off my feet.  Time to play catch up and have some drinks at the Freak Bar.  Talked to Angelica about possibly doing her hair.  She said the only reason she hadn’t called me, is because she didn’t really have money to pay me.  Of courseI told her not to worry about it, and that I would be happy to do her hair for free.  The only thing I ever expected in return for my services, is the proper recognition and credit I deserve for my efforts.  It would be really awesome if she would allow me to play with her hair.   Huslter is writing up an article on the sideshow, and she said that I could do her hair for that, and I would be listed as her hairdresser.

We also saw a side of the performers no one really does, and you know, sometimes you have to look behind that curtain.  As an audience, we become so disillusioned by a persona we see on stage.  There is certainly nothing wrong with admiring someone, but I feel that people become too obsessed with what they see.  In a bizarrre way, I learned some things about a certain someone that I didn’t really need to know, but then again, it shattered that line between what is and what is not.  Every now and then, you have to get to know who people are off stage instead of blindly loving them for who they are on stage.  Just because someone looks good doesn’t mean they have a personality to match…unfortunately.

When everyone else left, Jon and I walked down to Brighton Beach  to smoke a blunt.  Set random thing on fire including the water and just talked about various things.  To be honest, I don’t think I have ever sat and talked that long with anyone.

Eventually the sun came up.  That may just have been the most amazing thing I saw during the hours we spent on the Island, and it was the first time we had exprience sun rise together.  One moment the sky is black and full of stars, then it slowly lightens until it turns blue.  Next thing you know, the sun is a huge orange ball hanging low in the sky.  Everything is quiet except for the gentle flow of the waves that are crashing on the sandy shore in front of you, the sparkling water stretching off into infinity.  Whatever happened on that beach is staying there, but suffice to say that romance was certainly in the air.

We went back to the amusement area for some breakfast, which was delicously greasy.  Jon held me for what seemed like forever before I climbed back into my car, apologizing for being absent in my life.  As usual, it’s no big deal because no matter what, I know that he will always come back.  Then again, he is an adult and can do whatever he wants, and I definitely appreciate that we are such close friends.

Decided to head to my mom’s house for about an hour, so she wouldn’t call me all worried and ruin my good time.  Then I escaped to the Shore.  Jon had to head out town for a couple of days and requested I watched his place.  Yea…like I was going to argue.

So for three luxurious days, I did whatever the fuck I wanted.  Which mostly consisted of smoking myself stupid every day, but I was also productive.  Writing, drawing, painting and enjoying the serenity of that oceanside sanctuary.  Every morning I inhaled deep lungfulls of salty air and took a walk on the beach as waves gently lapped at my feet.  At moments it felt as tho I was completely alone in my own little world, and I hav to admit that I liked it.

The following Sunday when Jon returned, we went to Coney for some much needed rides on the Cyclone.  He bought me a Shocked and Amazed book that was full of interviews with Coney Island sideshow performers past and present.  There are also some great black and white photos of the old sideshows, along with a fairly comprehensive list of shows that once existed in Dreamland, Steeplechase and Luna.  Angelica was sweet enough to sign the photo of her for me.

Spending three days by myself was beyond amazing, and I want to do it on a permenant basis.

This week was pretty good.  On Tuesday I went down to Seaside with my sister to see the Brothers Grimm sideshow.  She called the Star Ledger to find out where it was exactly, and the lady could only tell her that it was on the boardwalk.  As long as we knew it was still there, taking the ride down couldn’t hurt.

We got there some time after seven, walked up one side of the boardwalk and stopped to play some games here and there.  We came to the conclusion that we knew why we had come to dislike the place so much.  When we went in the past, it always had to be with our mother, and we basically had to have fun around her scheduale.  Going at nite was much better, because we didn’t have to worry about getting burned by the evil sun, and there were a lot fewer people there than I had expected.  There were also more people with tattoos and even some generic Hot Topic kids, but hey, that was better than the assembly line of near clones down in Wildwood.

Then we headed down the other end of the boardwalk.  Lo and behold, we found the sideshow.  There was a tent pitched in the middle of some rides, and the banners were flapping in the breeze; sight that I smiled upon seeing.  The smile grew when I recognized Tyler was up on the bally stage doing the pitch. I paid for myself and my sister, a measly fee of five dollars, and we went inside, peering at the random objects they had, including a genuine skeleton in a coffin.  The show itself seemed quick, but it was good.  We saw the infamous Katzen, Enigma, Zamora the Torture King, William Dark and Dora de Mot of GWAR.  After the show, we stuck around for a little while and talked to Katzen.  My sister asked her what made her want to modify herself in the way she chose to, and she explained that she had always seen herself that way in dreams.   That is so awesome.  Tyler was also pleased to see me again.  Terribly flirtatious he was, kissing my hand three times.  Suppose I sort of fed his ego when I said that he’s good as the outside talker, seeing as how he just has the right voice for it.  Also mentioned that I would be seeing’ him again at Coney for This or That.

We got back some time after one, and I was in a daze.  You can be assured my head was filled with perverted thoughts that nite.

Friday we went down again, and this time I remembered my camera, so I shot a fe photos.  Got back to my mom’s house after three and was relieved to get in bed.

Saturday I went down to the Shore once again to hang out with Jon.  We drove out to the Salvation Army to poke around for some clothes.   He found a few pairs of jeans he liked and I got a new black shirt, which he purchased for me, so I feel special now.

Yesterday we tried going to the Brooklyn Museum of Art, but after fighting thru traffic, by the time we got there it would have been closing.  So we adventured thru Brooklyn to some random restaurant where we had a damn good dinner.

Today Jon was kind enough to lend me use of his computer so I can catch up on stuff, which was totally awesome.

Had my 15 seconds of fame on the Discovery Channel recently.  Go me!

After putting much thought into it, at some point when I can financially invest in it and have a job where it won’t matter, I will be tattooing my face.  Of course I know I’ll be limiting myself to where I can work.  Then again, I can’t even find a job now, and I’m pretty “tame”.  In all honesty, I don’t think I’ll be happy with my appearance until I can do the things I have planned in terms of future modifications.

Generally speaking, life have actually been good these past few weeks, so maybe something will happen.  The impossible has taken place before, and so I hope that it will again.

Off to enjoy my high.

Born From Sawdust

[ Originally written 8.11.03]

The weekend adventures were few. I had wanted to hit Q’s on Friday, but after learning about the death of my rat, Jon insisted that I come  down to the Shore.  It’s hard to say No to my best friend.  Besides, he gave me things to make me less sad about my rat, and that was actually way better than getting drunk at a club, which I probly really didn’t want to do anyway.

Saturday was filled with rain, more smoking and chilling out watching movies.  It was nice tho, because I get enough noise and bullshit between my mom’s house and being in E-twon, so a ‘vacation’ at the beach is almost spoiling me.

Sunday we grew tired of bumming around the house, so Jon drove us into the City.  Attempted to go to the Museum of Natural History [I think it was], but there were too many people there, and I could tell that he was uncomfortable, so we left.  Ate lunch at Jekyl and Hyde’s.  Good idea, great atmosphere, but a little too dark and not enough entertainment.

The water started falling out of the sky again, so we decided to head back. Picked up some sugar-filled goodies before returning to Jersey.  The rest of the evening was spent consuming said goodies and testing out the new pipe he also purchased.

There’s really no explaination as to why I feel so shitty today.  It’s the whole loneliness feeling that tends to overcome me.

While I enjoy going out places, driving to no particular destination or what have you, it would be a lot better if I had someone with me.  Perhaps I should just face the fact that I am such a terrible fucking person that no human in their right mind would even consider being nice to me, never mind have any sort of interest in me.

It’s hard to make people understand things you feel in your soul.  Of course I am talking about the whole sideshow thing.  Have been catching promo’s for HBO’s new series Carnivale, and it looks incredible.  It also makes me long for having that experience.  Most people have no idea how it feels to be up on stage performing for an audience of strangers.  Honestly, it’s the best feeling, and I certainly believe if that’s what I was doing right now, I would feel less like a worthless piece of shit.

As Jon has said many times, I was born with sawdust in my veins, and he seems to be the only person to understand what that means.  My life goal is to make a living being a sideshow performer, and that doesn’t exactly fit into the list of things that people look for in a friend.  You can’t connect with someone who doesn’t fully comprehend your passion and the thing that you want most in your life.  For me, it’s the sideshow and the life that comes along with it.  Nothing could make me happier, and yet I am deprived of it on a daily basis.  

Can you blame me for not being properly motivated?  For not giving a shit about a ‘real job’?  For saying fuck it, becauseI just stopped caring what people think?

What is the point of keeping positive, if all it has gotten you is a big fucking nothing?  Why hold on to impossible dreams if they constantly get shattered?  What is the point of building up your confidence, believing that you have something, if it seems like no one gives a shit?

Then again, I have this amazing friend that I love so much I am afraid to admit it to anyone but myself, because I always question whether or not he feels the same way about me.  On certain occasions, I can’t deny the close bond that we have, but then he disappears and I’m left with way too many questions that linger without answers.  When we meet up again, the happiness is so overwhelming that I don’t even think of brining any of those things up, because I am ever so greatful to even have someone as wonderful as he is in my life.  Just wish that he was there all the time.

Wishing For Invisibility

[Originally written 7.31.03]

When it came deciding where to go for the weekend, the Shore was a much more inviting destination than E-town, and so that’s where I rolled late Friday nite.

Poured my heart out to my best friend about the frustration of being without a job despite the fact I go out on interviews on a daily basis and am constantly checking every classified I can get my hands on.  Jon held me in his tattooed arms for a long time and just listened, offering kind words where they were needed.  Then he rolled a fat blunt; we smoked and walked along the ocean.  Such a contrast between being around the constant hub of activity here and being in such solitude down there.

He spent Saturday nite driving me around South Jersey, where we met up with some of his friends and sat out in the woods getting shitfaced on Moonshine.   Then somene passes around brownies, and as soon as I have one in my mouth, Jon had this look on his face.  It wasn’t until after I was finished eating it that he laughed and told me it had mushrooms in it.  The rest of that evening was spent fucking around in the woods playing hide-and-seek, tho I’m not sure anyone ever won.

Sunday we just relaxed, had an amazing breakfast, got high and enjoyed flying kites out on the beach.  Always such a nice way to spend time with someone who cares about you, and makes me wonder why I even bother to think about the Asshole.

Took two trips this week.

Returned to the Shore on Monday, and honestly if I didn’t have to do some laundry up here at the house, I would have stayed with Jon for the whole weekend.  It was a bit chilly and dreary, so we didn’t go to the boardwalk as planned.  Ate some brownies instead and went wandering in the woods.  There was a time when this sort of activity would have scared me, because I used to have this weird phobia about such places.  Chalk that up to watching on too many horror movies where some masked stranger would stalk thru the dense population of trees prior to slaughtering his chosen victims.  However, when I am with Jon, in this situation or any other, there is always a sense of safety that surrounds me.  Perhaps that’s due to the fact he holds my hand tightly any time we enter the mystery of the Pine Barrens, and he enjoys entertaining me with stories of the Jersey Devil as well as other assorted myths and legends.

The time passes in ways I usually can only remember in random slices.  Walking hand-in-hand from his Chevy into the towering trees, various debris crunching under our feet.  Shadows dance across us as the numerous piney branches above block out the sun.  Things move and it’s hard to tell whether I am hallucinating or it’s the wind or possible a native-dwelling critter scampering thru the forest.  Our laughter is lost among those trees as we escape further from reality and at moments become completely disconnected.  It’s just the two of us; partners in crime adventuring thru our own wonderland for hours on end while forgetting that the rest of New Jersey even exists.

Eventually the whole scenerio shifts to being plastered on his couch with a blunt gripped tightly between my finger tips, floating in and out of discussions that always cover a wide range of topics.  These are the moments where I get to appreciate my best friend, the brother I love like no other and value more than anyone I have ever known.  He smiles at me in a way that generates the same expression on my own lips, and there’s nothing else I could ask for than that warm happiness that fills me ever second we spend together.  Then it all comes to an end; I gather my things and drive back to this depressing house and lie awake while recounting my amazing adventure.

Yesterday we went into NYC to drink mushroom tea in Tompkins Square Park.  Every now and then it’s nice to take a visit to the City where we spent hours spanging and hustling, because we don’t seem to get up there that much these days.  Mostly due to the fact that Jon prefers Jersey, because he says there’s too many negative vibes in the City, and I can understand that even tho he doesn’t quite go into detail about why.  There are some questions I just don’t ask; I trust him and that’s what matters most.

This particular journey into the City was one of those random moments where we got into his Chevy and Jon just drove until we found ourselves wandering the streets of the East Village and spanging for entertainment.  By the time we reached Thompkins, the jar of ‘shroom juice was empty.  We had an interesting conversation with a slightly drunk transient.  It was decisively odd, but it felt good to bring just a little bit of joy into someone’s life.  Also chilled with some squatters, gutter punks, hobos…whatever they want to be called.  In short, awesome people who swapped stories of life on the rails while we passed a blunt around and annoyed those who were just trying to enjoy the open air of the park.

As usual, we were gawked at by every ‘normal person, as well as the I’m more [insert stereotypical genre here] than you, therefore I’m too damn good to talk to you knuckleheads.  Oh no, you have more studs on your clothes than I do, therefor doth art wholely more ‘scene’ than I can ever hope to be.  *pfft*

What is the deal with that kind of attitude anyway?  Just because we’re not as ‘hardcore’ as these people, who are more concerned with the superficiality of appearance and the ability to rattle off the most popular bands of their chosen genre, they seem to look down their noses at us.

We sat and talked with a guy who has his whole life packed into a suitcase, panhandles to get by and pissed in public.  We spent time with what we consider ‘our people’, who don’t judge us and were so thankful when Jon handed each of them five bucks, even tho he knew they would most likely spend it on drugs or alcohol.  These people live free of the stigma society places on them, and that is hardcore.

Now that I’m back here, I feel like all of this was just one big dream, and all I want to do is disappear.  Not literally, not permanently or anything like that.  More so just be gone from this house, this town and the drama that I have endured,  because I am tired of it and want my own life that I don’t have to explain to anyone.