Poe, Bukowski, and Even The Lizard King

We sat at opposite points of the campfire. The smoke gathered and gave way to the currents of subtle wind carrying exhaust of burning logs like evanescent spirits blowing kisses to the nightsky; a blacksheet salted with dandruff from the universe. Out there we had no phone signal but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway considering we opted to leave our communicative devices in Gene’s car, parked a mile downhill. He had got ahold of some acid and invited Kurt and myself to dose with him. So, there we were at the mercy of the ancient redwoods that were left to congregate in peace for now. Kurt was drawing in the dirt with a broken branch he picked up on the walk from the car. Gene was rolling a joint with an audibly elevated concentration on perfecting the craft of the roll. Meanwhile, I was enamoured by the passion of the fire trying to make love to the earth that only responded with rapid decay.

Just as the silence got comfortable an owl hooted in the distance and Gene completed his task. “Voila!” He held up the joint proudly. He showcased his masterpiece by swaying the unlit bone as he rocked himself like a giddy child sitting with his legs crossed. We sat in theatrical awe allowing Gene’s craft a chance in the spotlight. This was the final ingredient but the red curtains had yet to open. Although the acid was already in our system I hadn’t experienced any noticeable effects. It was my first time so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect aside from crazy shit I’ve seen in the movies. Then again I wondered how reliable of a source that was but I figured if there was any doubt I could always check in with Gene. He often had a hook up for this or that. Be it shrooms or acid and the occasional molly, the fella was sure to be equipped with some first hand experience.

He was often dressed for the part. As a fan of the legendary Raoul Duke, Gene wore yellow tinted shades, a white bucket hat and khakis that he snipped into shorts above the knee. He’d speak fondly of madness and enjoyed the grotesque romance of what many would consider dark. He’d quote Poe and Bukowski and even The Lizard King. The unknown of the universe never bothered Gene. His views in life were none too different than a gambler glued to a roulette table and on this airy night loosely accompanied by smoke of varying degrees, Gene was my guide, my Virgil through the acid drenched levels of cerebral circles.

“Is everybody in… Is ev-ory- bod-y- in? The ceremony is about to begin!” Our Duke bounced his eyebrows with excitement. Kurt air guitared the broken branch while I drummed my lap. Even the trees got in on the action as the breeze rattled their leaves, sounding like an energetic crowd at a stadium. Gene playfully waved the joint above his head before extending his arm between Kurt and I to ask, “First greens anyone? Bueller? Bueller?” Then like always, before anyone got the chance to answer he equipped the joint and sparked up. “Don’t mind if I do.” He chuckled. Kurt and I both watched as a faint sizzle of gentle fire peeled back from the tip of the masterpiece. You can always tell when it’s a good roll by the way it burns.

When the joint reached me I hit that thing like I didn’t have LSD waiting for its turn to take hold of me but by the time I inhaled I could feel that seemingly innocent little square of paper gaining control over my senses. The nervous anticipation of my experience felt like driving an unfamiliar car with my old friend Maryjane in the back seat and a stranger in the passenger side, dominating the conversation and adjusting my stereo. “Here we go.” I thought as I exhaled and watched the cloud of smoke blend together with the campfire’s transparent ghosts ascending from flickered flame. I could feel the heat subsiding as a tingling sensation consumed my being. It was probably just my nerves and/or my tendency to overthink every little thing that added to this bizarre introduction to the world of psychedelics. For all I knew, the acid hadn’t even begun to take effect. But, nonetheless I was crossing the tracks for this train of thought that either myself or the world around me was slowly becoming alien.

My puff of smoke cleared and on the other side was Gene staring at me with what appeared to be a questionable smile and a raised brow. I looked over at Kurt who was sharing a similar look. My confusion must’ve been extremely apparent because my friends swapped looks then both broke out in laughter. At first it made me a little uneasy but then Gene added, “You gonna adopt that baby or what?” He pointed at the joint.

“Yeah, pass the grass man.” Kurt chuckled out.

I was dumbfounded at first then suddenly realized that I had gotten so engulfed in thought that my grip on time had slipped through my fingers like a fistfull of water. How long was I sitting there? I wondered. But before my thought had the chance to fully unfold, Kurt was handing the joint off to me… Again? Then, before reaching out to proceed with the rotation, it seemed like the volume had raised for the usually quiet things. I heard unknown birds whistling codes to each other. I could hear the rippling of the lake somewhere beyond the towering redwoods. I heard insects hitchhiking to the nearest safe haven. Then I could feel myself being swallowed up by the darkness surrounding the humble campfire. This was no good. The stranger had taken the wheel and my old friend Maryjane was nowhere to be found while I sank into the backseat, making my way to the trunk of my own trip.

“You good, dude?” Kurt asked. I know he only meant well with the intent of supportive concern but the question itself only fed my panic already in motion. Sometimes there’s nothing worse than wrestling to stabilize an unsettled anxiety and just when you think you’ve subdued the negativity, you are asked that silly question that never fails to serve the revival of an internal enemy. I wasn’t feeling too hot but now it was out in the open. I skipped my drag and handed off the roachafied joint to Gene. Even with those yellow tinted glasses at this time of night, he was able to see right through me. He took the roach and tossed me his shades, saying “Yeah, you’re cool, brother. You’re cool.” Trying to reassure me.

While I equipped the Duke’s eyewear, he began to go on a tangent about all of the sorts he frequently concerned himself with and as usual Kurt and I sat and listened but this time with an audibly elevated concentration. “If you listen closely you can hear just about everything. All the subtle songs of nature. Because that’s all it is, really. This age old journey is but a symphony and our lives an improvised dance. Step or misstep no matter but nonetheless step with purpose cause it’s all ya got. Buy the ticket, take the ride, ya know?”

“But see, that's the thing.” Kurt said as he stood up to tie his fading grey flannel around his waist before picking up the branch to wield it over the fire and continued, “We didn’t buy this ticket, man. We were shot into this world against our will. We’re like shooting stars, dying in the middle of the night.”

“Well, I guess you got me there. But hey, suppose ya gotta burn like a star if you wanna shine like one. So, why not make a wish, huh?” Gene smirked with a fresh cigarette hanging from his mouth, clearly relishing in this type of mad banter. Meanwhile, I remained in silent contemplation. My boiling panic attack had retreated, leaving me to ponder on about the nature of my existence. I felt so strangely void of any opinion. I was unafraid and unconvinced of any absolute. In fact the matter of conversation left me rather blissfully high with wonder. Once again a tingling sensation overwhelmed my being but this time I could feel how perfectly still I was. My surroundings took on the motion of an indefinite merry-go-round. The words 'star' and 'ride' echoed an endless loop in my head as I watched tracers through the yellow shades that made the fire feel like a sigh with passive alliance to myself and my psychedelic brethren and the sky. Then I saw it.

I was plucked from my silence when a sudden flash of green light shot out from the distance. “Holy shit! Did you guys see that?” I pointed at the dark sheet of night across from me while my two friends, startled by my unexpected outburst, quickly turned their heads to try and catch what I had witnessed but it was too late. As fast as it came it had vanished.

“What was it?” Gene stood looking back at me.

“It was a light...Like a shooting star.” I said. But Gene wasn’t having it. “It prolly was a shooting star, you goon.”

“No.” I insisted. “It was green.” I was sure of it. But the guys proceeded to sit back down before Gene added, “Get the fuck outta here. What are you high?”

“No I swear. It was incredible.”

The Duke tossed his cigarette into the fire. Kurt placed his branch with the burning logs and I sat near speechless trying to make sense of the whole thing. With the state of mind we were all in there was no way to properly translate what I had seen but whatever it was, it was oddly reassuring. I mean the timing of it with my running train of thought and the conversation, I was inclined to accept the phenomenon as a sign. “Oh man.” I thought. The acid really had a hold of me now. I let that incredible moment sink in for a second then asked, “You guys believe in god?”

“I believe in aliens.” Kurt replied.

“What?” Gene scoffed. “You guys serious?”

“Yeah.” Kurt continued. “I mean how do you explain all the ancient mysteries? Or even today with all the modern oddities and their eerie connection to the possibility of something otherworldly?

“Aw c’mon with that.” Gene chuckles then gestures for me to hand back his glasses. “And what? You think it’s all God's handy work?”

“Maybe.” I said handing them over.

He slipped his shades on and pulled another smoke from his pocket. He shook his head in somewhat of a soft disappointment. “Look here. It’s easy to believe in something but it’s hard to live it. You get me?”

“How can you be so dismissive, Gene? I mean you really think we’re the only ones out here?”

“I do. Simply because I am. I see a shooting star and I don’t care what color it is. I make a wish because it feels good to do. I don’t pray and I don’t anticipate an alien invasion because to me they are one in the same. I mean think about it. Don’t you think it’s funny that the two legends live on the same floor?”

We all broke out in laughter. He had some interesting points. But still, it was clear we sat at opposite points of the campfire. So instead, we basked in the incredible atmosphere of wonder and redwoods amidst the indifference of the universe. The Duke rolled another joint with the quiet hope of catching a star to wish upon. Kurt drew random shapes in the dirt with his fingers, occasionally glancing up at the stars and I sat with a watchful eye just in case the green light revealed itself to me once again.