i think greg put it best...
"well when he keeled over, fire reaching upwards of what, 60 feet? the heat wave threw back the crowd a bit, our close quad was sucked in.
I wasn't sure if it was that feeling of oneness brought by giant ephygies burning away collected undercurrents and vibrating cerebrums. Or if it was that we were all laughing and peeing and covering watching eachother's backs while we did it.
laughing and peeing,
one of the longest orgasms I've ever had, staring into wide eyes all a shimmerin with the big burn.
The night before, we atuned our own inner harmonics to harmonize with the 11 11 diamond quazar wave enducer.
or something of that description.
somewhere in this week, I met a transvestite that had me rolling naked in the playa, a nudist named Uncle Harley, a poet named Joshua, Santa Cruz lesbians, thunderdome ala madmax mean kids... the list goes on.
nothing, no one, ever even came close to normal.
so it seemed pretty natural to me.
By day 2 I think I was finaly aclimatized, you know, not even turning my head when something exploded to my left, a topless girl painted like flowers to my right, a pirate ship crusising over by the horizon...
nope, so far so good, nothing too normal, I'm touching the moon with my bare toes and the earth looks as far away as a stale white cressant falling from a giant, colourful plate.
night 2 we're in a white out, you can't see 20 feet infront of your nose for all the dust going around.
good thing there's a big moon with bright eyes.
from the man, where we were effectively stranded until we decided the desert can't own us, we walked toward 9'o clock. where we found some deliciously tasteful funky house and breaks.
our new friend Heidi punk rocked her way to a funky sway and we moved the lips on people's faces in that smiley sorta way.
the dust storm died down, we retreated to center camp where we met new people, exchanged gifts and took pictures.
White as ghosts, whiskey brought no colour to us, but all's well, home is a bike ride away.
Days and days and days in, the realisation that this is pretty much close to heaven for me on earth sets in and I'm off writing, reading, drawing, spawning new ideas, groping at futurist strings with the less timely.
lost generations meeting with found floruscent soul children. If ever there was a need, there was a car and someone filling that bottle, that bassin, that open palm, or open ear.
I'm glad o be out of the drying/mummifying environment, but I'll miss that place, the people I met there and the experience of family with the unknown."
(see my pictures folder)
"well when he keeled over, fire reaching upwards of what, 60 feet? the heat wave threw back the crowd a bit, our close quad was sucked in.
I wasn't sure if it was that feeling of oneness brought by giant ephygies burning away collected undercurrents and vibrating cerebrums. Or if it was that we were all laughing and peeing and covering watching eachother's backs while we did it.
laughing and peeing,
one of the longest orgasms I've ever had, staring into wide eyes all a shimmerin with the big burn.
The night before, we atuned our own inner harmonics to harmonize with the 11 11 diamond quazar wave enducer.
or something of that description.
somewhere in this week, I met a transvestite that had me rolling naked in the playa, a nudist named Uncle Harley, a poet named Joshua, Santa Cruz lesbians, thunderdome ala madmax mean kids... the list goes on.
nothing, no one, ever even came close to normal.
so it seemed pretty natural to me.
By day 2 I think I was finaly aclimatized, you know, not even turning my head when something exploded to my left, a topless girl painted like flowers to my right, a pirate ship crusising over by the horizon...
nope, so far so good, nothing too normal, I'm touching the moon with my bare toes and the earth looks as far away as a stale white cressant falling from a giant, colourful plate.
night 2 we're in a white out, you can't see 20 feet infront of your nose for all the dust going around.
good thing there's a big moon with bright eyes.
from the man, where we were effectively stranded until we decided the desert can't own us, we walked toward 9'o clock. where we found some deliciously tasteful funky house and breaks.
our new friend Heidi punk rocked her way to a funky sway and we moved the lips on people's faces in that smiley sorta way.
the dust storm died down, we retreated to center camp where we met new people, exchanged gifts and took pictures.
White as ghosts, whiskey brought no colour to us, but all's well, home is a bike ride away.
Days and days and days in, the realisation that this is pretty much close to heaven for me on earth sets in and I'm off writing, reading, drawing, spawning new ideas, groping at futurist strings with the less timely.
lost generations meeting with found floruscent soul children. If ever there was a need, there was a car and someone filling that bottle, that bassin, that open palm, or open ear.
I'm glad o be out of the drying/mummifying environment, but I'll miss that place, the people I met there and the experience of family with the unknown."
(see my pictures folder)
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
coco:
we ended up going to maui instead, can you believe it?!?!?
stuckinthetrunk:
Where are you? I want to hear about BM and about you! Love me again. 