travels

On Friday I had to wake up early to drive Alan to the bus stop in Downtown LA so he could go visit his family for the week. His car now drivable, for me, with him out of town, I thought of the places I could go ... I danced around the possibility of seeking about the East LA for chemical experience purchases. Opiates for happiness, or amphetamines for productivity. I suppose it’s an easy conclusion to draw that this is not good idea, but why do I not deserve a few hours of happiness every once in a while? And, more importantly, I need the energy to stay up for a few days and catch up on my self-imposed writing projects. My self-imposed deadline is coming up, and I’m self-imposed stressed.

I don’t really know what I’m doing with this sort of thing, so after driving around aimlessly and failing to eye a drug dealer I soon gave up, and drove to Echo Park for coffee. I called Raven, and met her in Hollywood for an empty breakfast. I wasn’t going to buy anything at a restaurant when I had an EBT card offering free food. Hung out with her and boyfriend Brian for a while. He’s cool enough. Talked about conspiracy theories and psychedelics. Evidently, they can’t get me any acid and Brian doesn’t believe in David Icke.

The day before I met up with Raven briefly at the WOW art gallery show. It was a loud video game-themed show show, bizarre and 8-bit and somewhat fun, even though there was a long line for my friends. I got in a bit early though, when James St. James noticed me. But it was too crowded and partying for meeting anyone and having a conversation, not even worth the time for gay minor celebrities. Outside in the front with the smokers was nice, but it was one-way in or out, so to meet the interesting cats it wasn’t worth the finalized risk until late at night.

It was far nicer to hang out with Raven in the daytime. I love driving her around Hollywood and talking about nothing. That’s friendship. I gave her a ride back to the art gallery, and I talked to James St. James about New York for a bit. I took Raven to Staples on an errand. I talked about old video games with some guy. But I had to go eventually, and I gave Raven my heart-wrenching goodbyes. I’m going to move soon and probably won’t see her for many months, if not years, and it might be an end. But then again, I know we have a deep connection and I have the strong impression that we will keep in touch forever. I’ve made very few real friends during my time in California, but this girl is one of the best.

While in the city trying to figure out what to do, I suddenly got a spontaneous text from Nancy. She asked me to go to San Diego with her. I was thrown off. I hadn’t seen her in a long time, but it was somewhat good timing because I’m leaving soon and won’t get another chance to see her. I thought about going to the gym this weekend, and catch up on reading and do some damn writing, But fuck all that productive nonsense. When life offers you minor adventures, I concluded, you should do it.

I went back to Long Beach and showered and watched cartoons, and then Nancy called me and picked me up. It had been a while, and she was as cute as ever. We drove a few hours through Orange County into San Diego County and eventually in La Jolla we met up with her boyfriend Chris at California Pizza Kitchen. And I spent money I shouldn’t have. I happen to think Chris is a complete douche and very much wrong for her, but I try to be hospitable and not mention it. He’s the enemy of my Indigo people, a law student who only plays video games and has no creative taste in anything. I hate when girls date lower than them. She could do so much better. And also, it’s extremely awkward with our history. I mean, I’ve seen her naked. Does he know this? I ain’t telling him, and I’ll be Platonic friends with her, but I do find it weird when Nancy wants me to hang out with him. Well, we bought hair dye spontaneously and she wanted me to dye her hair (why wouldn’t her boyfriend help?). But I wanted to do other things while in San Diego. I promised we’d do it early tomorrow. Chris’s small apartment was in downtown SD small, and his roommate had the cutest Welsh Corgi. And, douche that Chris is, he hates the dog and doesn’t feel close to it all. I liked the dog a lot. And I had to go.

I called Jessica, Ohio friend that lives here, and she was happy to pick me up. Her crowd is far more interesting than the horde of rich Asian UCSD students Nancy hangs out with. Jessica was late, and San Diego has far too many highways, but when she finally found the place and picked me up we had a lot of good conversation. She’s going through a lot of spiritual experiences lately, and while I’m skeptical I am very curious to know more. Mostly her one-ness of the universe has revolved around the smokable nibbana of Salvia Divinorum. Jessica, and her very cool boyfriend J.D., are always happy to smoke me up. I really looked forward to the new experience. At their apartment in North Park there were a few people over, drinking and playing J.D.’s mixes, and it was quite fun. I don’t like pot so much, but J.D. gave me some crystallized hash and it was a good high. An interesting body buzz, and for the most part my mind was still sharp. I can’t stand being confused and stupid, but I’m open trying everything and its rude not to accept when offered, and this one wasn’t bad.

Later that night arrived a girl named Joy. She was also from Cincinnati but I never knew her before. Moderately cute, but a bit heavier than I’d prefer, but definitely much the hottest girl at the party who wasn’t taken. The night carried on with conversation and further synchronicities. Highly amazing perfection: I knew that Jessica was moving back to Ohio but I didn’t realize J.D. was going on a roadtrip next month to follow suit. And he mentioned going to Austin. “Really?” I was planning on hitchhiking to Texas on the way to Cincinnati as well. “New Orleans next,” I said. “Really?!” He was going the same route too, and a week after me in mid-September! J.D. he invited me to join him on the road. I was overwhelmed. Sometimes in the lowest point in your life it can be so perfect the way the Buddha provides. I’ve only known J.D. a short time, and I’m very fond of him, and this kindness is completely overwhelming. And he appreciates simply having a companion on this long American trek. Couldn’t be more perfect.

So, me and Joy grew closer as the night progressed. As suggested to me by my recent attraction research - I teased her, I acted cool, I was touchy against her skin, I played up my social status, and late into the night we found ourselves sitting on the stairs outside smoking cigarettes when I put my hand around her shoulder and made a move. I wasn’t so cool though, I was horridly nervous and shakey. She told me to relax. Our mouths melted together. I’ve been on a terribly lonely spell, and admit to not having actually kissed a girl in six months time (and it’s been longer since sex). I needed this so bad. We went inside and laid on the too-small couch and made out for hours. I love the taste of cigarette ash on lips. I got very hard, and she could feel it through my tight pants. “I’m so turned on by you,” she whispered. There were others in the room, so things could only progress so much, but without undressing and as subtle as possible she put her hand down my pants. Amazing, amazing night. I put my hands under her clothes and felt the crack of her ass and nipples under her bra and then all the way to down her scratchy wet slit. I bit her neck and left a mark, and she did the same to me. She nobly tried to pump me to orgasm. I love the feeling of fingernails all over my bare crotch. I love nudging my teeth against lip. The feel of skin against skin is the essential human connectivity and it’s a shame it doesn’t occur more often. But, all too often it can be so weird and uncomfortable if the conditions aren’t perfect. Hard as stone as I was, I just couldn’t get off with other people in the room. I was way too nervous.

Around 6:00 AM she had to leave with her friends. I regret so much. I could have very easily gotten laid, but I didn’t even ask to go to her place. I just assumed I should stay at Jessica’s. Plus, and this was a valid point, I very much wanted to smoke Salvia the next day. But dammit, I should have just lived in the moment and not thought about the future. It was already obvious that I would be very late to meet with Nancy the next day. Time didn’t matter. I should have pushed harder to somehow find some privacy with Joy. Well, I did get her phone number, and I did call the next day, but to no avail. Ah well, I am grateful for all the love I have been given, and have no right to ask for any more.

The next afternoon I awoke on the couch, alone, gross, and uncomfortable. I hadn’t been sleeping good lately. We hung around, and they made breakfast, and flies buzzed, but I skipped eating. If I was to trip out, best to do so on an empty stomach. It was time to sit comfortably, focus, and J.D. prepared me a rather intense hit, and I smoked two stinky puffs on the bong, and the world went inward.

Salvia is like an evil ego version of DMT. You trip very hard and very fast, but unfortunately you are still in your body. For me at least, it wasn’t like dimetheltrytamine when I was flying somewhere else disconnected from this reality. I was still inside myself, and it felt so disgusting. My tight pants were dirty and sticky and rotten, and I wanted to throw them off (luckily I didn’t; I wasn’t wearing underwear). I immediately started seeing things reproducing into a kind of scales. The whole universe flipped into geometricities. I saw McDonalds logos. Red and scaley. I could open my eyes and see these strange humans staring at me (it was only them), and I forgot where I was. Salvia is weird in that you forget you did it, and I assumed that I was freaking out on simple pot high and felt very stupid for it. I was struck with an immediate horror of self-consciousness, as I struggled not to embarrass myself. I was terrified that everyone would laugh at me. I was terrified that I couldn’t control myself. I couldn’t handle it. I mean, nobody cares and this was indeed a totally nurturing environment, but I have this problem with letting go. I didn’t fall in enough. I wished so much that I prepared better. When I realized what was happening, I hid under the covers. I sat in the lotus position. I thought maybe I was supposed to have some kind of Zen enlightenment, and prayed for it, but I didn’t come close. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the pixel-digital pattern forming before me, but it was so intense and horrifying that I could only find myself counting down until it was over with. I told myself to count to a hundred and just wait it out. I only counted to fifteen. Jessica came and held my hand as my skull fell down and I breathed heavily. It’s very important to have someone hold your hand and tell you its going to be okay in these situations. I appreciate it so much. Eventually I found the courage to open my eyes and my heartbeat finally slowed down, and I at last was back in some semblance of normal reality.

So what do I do with this knowledge? The world is made out of geometric patterns. I kind of already knew it, but now I have experienced it. So now what? I desperately need to do this again under more ideal conditions. Do an hour of yoga firsthand. Shower first. Be in a nature environment, even nude if necessary, and connect to the trees as opposed a connection with computers. My mind was buzzing quick, and my knees were jumping, and I struggled to verbalize these feelings. I thought I’d simply go on a trip for fifteen minutes and be on my way somewhere else by mid-afternoon, but instead it was necessary to follow up with at least an hour of conversation. I was very late in meeting up with Nancy. There was much philosophy to go over. And meanwhile, the illusionary real world beckoned.

Hugs and rides and hash brown breakfast later, I got a ride back to downtown SD. It was so boring at Chris’s. I was required to stay with them for the duration, but I wish that I got my own ride and could have spent the majority of the time with more like-minded people. It was fun to dye Nancy’s hair though, a dark red that barely came out over her jet black Asian hair. There was half a bottle left, so we went ahead decided to dye my hair too. At least now my grey hairs are gone (of which I probably gained many during the Salvia experience). I showered, and Chris wouldn’t lend me any clean jeans, and then we went to the most boring mall in the world. We ate at Cheesecake factory to meet with her UCSD friends. I didn’t fit in, but I tried to be hospitable. I certainly need to be less judgmental, and patronizing with the occasional bourgeoisie straights couldn’t hurt. Again, I spent money that I shouldn’t have.

Afterwards we all went to a Korean karaoke club, which was a bit more fun. It was an authentic karaoke bar, like the one I went to in Japan years ago, where you rent out a room with your friends and the television screen plays discorporate footage from Asian TV dramas. Really, I prefer karaoke when its about pretending you’re a star with strangers at a bar. Though they didn’t have a good selection, I looked up a few and sang Let it Be, and Anarchy in the UK, and some others. I flirted with Nancy, my only friend there, and she made fun of my singing, and meanwhile Chris’s eyes burned me with resentment ...

Raven called me halfway through. She was freaking out while high and needed me to assure her that she wasn’t being mind-controlled by the government. Social control is much more prevalent and dangerous, I told her, and the primate political patterns that filter our worldview are far more deep than any technologies the Cryptocratic authority structure could ever muster. Social deconditioning is the only solution, I argued. But even still, never ever let them get to you. Never let fear take you over. And I talked some more, about my own Salvia experience, and Andy Warhol, and art, and love, and why we’re so weird, and it was a great conversation. I was saved from these other people for a whole half-hour. Please, call me any time when you’re in a schizophrenic nightmare and I’m happy to listen.

On the late drive back Nancy and Chris were arguing. It was all over petty nothingness, but the obvious subtext is that they were fighting over me and my presence. Awkwardness took a new level while I hid in the back seat. I hated being there. I wished Nancy would ditch him and we could go somewhere else. I still don’t understand what mindgames Nancy was playing by inviting me to hang out with her boyfriend in the first place. If only I could be anywhere else. Back at their place I heard mutterings of hatred in the night emanating from their room, and I couldn’t hear the details and didn’t want to know. I played video games, played with the dog, and had another uncomfortable night’s sleep.

Woke up early. I offered to drive. Nancy was supposed to drop me off Long Beach first, but the timing was off. She was to have lunch with her family far away, near West Covina or somewhere. So instead it was worked out that we should go all the way out there and I’d wait around while she ate and just go to Long Beach later. (If you knew Southern California, you’d realize how ridiculous all this driving is.) Made it just in time, and I hung out at an Asian neighborhood for a few hours. I had some coffee at Burger King. I read some Sartre. I listened to my iPod. Raven called me again. I was bored, and sat next to a tree to read, and eventually I fell asleep. Foreshadowing my inevitable future, I slept outside for an hour until I was kicked out by a security guard. I was so tired.

Finally we went back to Long Beach. Nancy was open to hanging out for a while, and we watched Youtube movies on my computer. I introduced her to Ramsey and then Jenn came over. It was the first time I saw Jenn since I wrote her a very nasty suicide email, but anyways she seemed cool. Writing mean letters is my literary specialty. Nancy was tired, and asked to take a twenty minute nap in my room. When I went to wake her up, all confident from my making out night on Friday, I sat next to her and put my arm on her and lied there and felt her beautiful breath. It was so perfect. She awoke. I went in for a kiss. And she turned away and softly said, “no.” I shouldn’t have done that. I tried again. Still no. I truly shouldn’t have done that.

She should be mad at me. I don’t get it. I don’t understand anything. I wish she would either love me or hate me, but I don’t know how to handle a perpetual lukewarm friendship. Still she wanted to hang out. All four of us walked to a coffee shop and had tea and talked about such subjects as urine-powered automobiles. Eventually Nancy left, on the long drive alone back to the Valley. We hugged. I probably won’t see her again for a very long time, if ever.

I relaxed for awhile, and promised to hang out with Edward later this Sunday, so we drove Alan’s car to Cypress. Ramsey and Jenn came. I had to give Edward notes on his novel-in-process that I’d been hoarding for a while, and met up with him at his grandma’s place, and I bought a pint of cheap whiskey. The best kind to buy. I was sick of hanging out the coffee shop in Cypress all the time, so we parked at Home Depot and walked around dreary Orange County. We were lit up by moonlight. Talked about literature, and the future, and theology, and argued over whether Vonnegut or P.K. Dick is better. Edward is the only other real friend I’ve made in California. Just like Raven, he’s from somewhere else. I got really drunk. I probably won’t see him for a long time either. I have absolute assurance that we will keep in touch forever.

Ramsey drove on the way back, as I was fucking plastered. I was supposed to write that night. I have so much to do, but I was all fucked and just went to sleep. Had to wake up early for a three-day office gig from this temp agency the next day. I slept little, another sweaty night, and powered by coffee I commenced to drive to Torrance. This job sucked so much. Quite a hellish experience, it turned out to be nothing but stuffing envelopes for nine hours straight. But I listened to my iPod, and read magazines, and read the new Wonder Woman too. Perhaps that’s why I was the slowest one there. The two other kids there were the perfect envelope-stuffing trained monkeys. I went to Wal Mart on break to buy Burning Man supplies, which turned out to be a terrible idea and didn’t buy anything. How I despise Wal Mart. I also learned that Weinerschnitzel is a bad place for vegetarians to eat. The next few work days at home were spent forsaking the productive to watch Netflix movies: I watched Juno and Persopolis, of which I liked the latter a lot more.

The next day they took me aside and asked my why I was going so slow. 16,000 envelopes to stuff over three days and I did far less than my third. The other two kids there were such perfect worker bees. Sit still and stuff stuff stuff and they don’t seem to have brains at all. The next day I was told not even to come in. At least I get paid for two days, but I could have used that other third day of pay. I do not understand the world. I do not understand how to be a productive member of this shit. I seem not to have a survival instinct. I try so hard, but not hard enough evidently, and it never works. If only I could fully disconnect from this game. There’s a whole psychedelic creative universe out there, I’ve seen it, and yet we are told to go to school and go to work and that’s all there is.

Now I have to organize what to do with my life. I have to pack up my room. I have to mail everything I own. I have to prepare for Burning Man. I have to get camping supplies. I have to finish my novel, and some other scripts, and to draw as well. I have to bloody get ready to move to the other side of the country in two weeks. I’ve done none of this. Nothing. I have so much to do, and most of the time I do nothing. The story of my life.

I suppose it’s been interesting times lately, but I cannot help but feel hollow on occasion. I like to travel, but rarely do I seem to ever make it to any destination. Hence I wander. And still I travel.