The girl from Denmark was sad she had to go back home where it was cold. She started crying on the bus to the airport. A huge tear rolled out from under the sunglasses she was hiding behind.
The Swedish woman was from Lapland. She was small and copper colored, her hair auburn. I wanted to learn everything I could about Lapland.
T. from Long Island was going to get back on a big Tuna boat any day now.
I’ve got a lot more tolerance for things that aren’t perfect. Like if I forget my flip-flops on the way to the shower and I have to touch the floor with my bare feet. Or if there is a little sand on my bed. The other day the cleaning crew put someones else’s shoes on top of my bunk.
This place is a lot more conservative than Venice Beach. It feels funny to say that in the middle of a hippie community. I woke up sick with a cold. I’ll probably have to stop drinking for a while. I got an insane attack for food last night. I started with a normal meal– a chicken kabob platter and two glasses of wine at the Turkish restaurant on Newport street. Later I ate a chicken taco from the small taceria near the beach. During the bonfire I finished a fifth of vodka and I walked home and put nearly three dollars into the vending machine in exchange for a bag of Famous Amos chocolate chip cookies, a bag of potato chips, and a twix. I was embarrassed by my gluttony and wished I could eat it all in secret.
The hostel started coming down for breakfast at 8am. The Japanese lady in the jumpsuit and sun visor sat down next to me. I was scared.
Yesterday morning I had watched C., the hilarious but disturbed kid bent on self destruction, who everyone compared to a younger version of me, drink what was left of last night’s bottle of wine in large gulps. That was my life in this place. It was a half squat for half squaters, half couchsurfer, all backpacker, all student of something, just being a little in love with life, a place of refuge for some, or a crack that someone fell into. It was a home for old travelers and a waypoint for younger ones.
I wonder what I am doing seeking this out all the time. I always try to get comfortable when I land in a new place and that means finding routines, but the main reason I’m traveling is to avoid falling into routines.
I’ve got my morning routine down. Get up between 7 or 8, grab a towel from downstairs and find an available shower. Roll a joint and stand in the sun. Make a breafast smoothie and smoke the joint. Walk to the beach and stretch. Jerk off and go to work. Maybe write something. I’m not very particular about the order.
It must be a full moon out there. This is an excerpt from another email I received:
I guess I can’t really call myself unlucky. I get a good amount of life. I’m still smithened by the spontaneously happening out of body experience I had in… It’s so fucking weird when that happens. I was about to go to sleep, when this person was pulling on my feet. So I look up drowsy, see if the asian girl from the bottom bunk bed messes with my feet, but there is noone. So I see it coming and woosh, some entity pulls my body out of my body and tells me to come along. I’m thinking, fucking yeah, it’s one of those, lets do a trip and check out what works. I seem to be with 3 entities, they appear like people and they seem to be familiar. We are walking out of the hostel room into a parallel reality. It’s more real than real, but it’s not, because awareness doesn’t exactly work like when you’re awake, It’s definitely not dreaming though. I tell them that I want to get fucked in the ass and see, if it really feels like as if I was in my regular body. They say it shouldn’t be a problem. The world I am traveling is fantastic. Unfortnately I forgot most of it. It was similar to ours but different, more futuristic and the entities aren’t exactly human, they just look like it to me.
They explain all I ask. I’m thinking, jeee, this is so much like avatar only difference is that I’m not in an avatar but in myself, just not in my body. I stayed out for about 3 hours when I noticed that this is going to traverse into a dream. The people I was with realized that too, it was normal to them. There were so many things that I thought I should bring over into our world, but I god damn forgot them. It feels very weird not being in your body. I did find some guy who wanted to fuck me, but we had problems creating a real cock on him. It felt like half way fucking but very real. Another guy had a different idea and shoved his hand up my ass, which was absolutly the real experience. No difference to real, maybe softer. So it works. The outaspace dudes mainly make fun of requests like that. One can eat out of body, it has real taste and all that.
Seriously, what do you do in a situation like that? You kind of freak and then say to yourself, O.K., let’s go, what do I want to check out. Supposedly one doesn’t have to eat, if I remember properly form like 6 years ago. I’m not looking for these experiences, don’t see the use, except that they aren’t nearly as easy to integrate into life than drug tripping. It takes much longer to cope, when you’re back to regular life. On drugs you can think you went beyond time, you’re dead, you see the universe the sense of life, you can get stuck in geometric patterns and what not. Drug experiences can be quite real and enlightening. This however is a whole different level of real. It’s undeniably super real and it’s not evoked by drugs. You know that, when it happens. You’re awareness isn’t a 100%, but much more there than when you’re spaced out on drugs. It’s somewhat stressful, but you need to remain calm, because when you get too stressed out you get immediately pulled back into your body, which is unpleasant, or you fall into a dream….
I really wonder, if I can make it somewhere. If I can make something beautiful out of this life. I really wonder if anybody will ever truly love me, me as in all of me, not just my face, not just my thoughts, not just my doing, not just my positions, all of it, which requires that he can actually see all of it. I wonder, if anybody will ever see me. I’m only around once and only for less than a second of eternity as a human. Will there ever be a second human who is equally interested in somebody else than in himself and will it happen to be me?
Let’s see:
1. You do a lot of drugs
2. You dig kinky sex
3. You are are out of your mind
The man from Quebec City had a nasty cough.
It was deep and troubling and one of the Swedish girls
admonished him for it.
“You see, that’s what you get for smoking!”
The last word came out in a sing-song.
She wiggled her finger at him and laughed.
He shrugged his shoulders with pride
as I imagine Ricardo Montalban would
and said “Yes, from smoking but… good”.
I understood immediately what he meant.
He had made a deal to live life hard and hungry
Maybe join the circus or be a street performer
reveling in the continuous present
drinking and smoking and smiling
> Johnny boy, Ya wanna put these shots on yer site with the attached DOD
> (Dept. of Defense) codes attached? Do it, punk! Jers Twooly,
>
> On Mon, Jan 11, 2010 at 6:27 PM, Jon Jon Johannssenn
> wrote:
>
>> Dude I don’t know what yopu’re fuckin around with but this thing has a DOD
>> number embedded.It requires a decoder to display the number . There are two
>> versions . One is somehow supplimental . The first number may be from the
>> alien lab at area 51. Likely hotspots in a transfer grid with a node in TSP
>> . You’re nt supposed to know about this shit .Read and destroy is the word
>> dude
