In the shadows of an underground parking lot, in a state of vegetative contemplation, I sat alone and adrift, somewhere … out there. Without pressures, concerns and people; beautiful and free. Without earthbound limitations, high and alone; my spider sense tingled. Pulled away from my Garden of Eden, time itself rippled on the pond of my being. Surprised I’d been allowed to enjoy myself for so long, I re-entered the Earth realm.
Out of nowhere, three figures approached. I’d seen that number in action before. Three: the number of entrapment; back to the wall all forward and side escapes cut off.
My heart pounded, blood coursed at an unbelievable rate as I fought to regain sensory control of my earthly vehicle. Not having done anything wrong or having anything of value did little to quell the idea it didn’t seem to matter these days. Doing what I did best, I removed myself to a remote inner perch and held on to every drop of my energy making sure nothing seeped out to feed the ‘animals’. Daring to peek through my fears I came face to face with Derek, a young kid I’d befriended along the way. With incredible finesse, I slowly let down my guard and smiled. Playing on the heartstrings of familiarity, I made it abundantly clear on some level of existence that if there was going to be trouble it’d be at the expense of his soul. He smiled and sat down with the other two.
Derek didn’t come across as arrogant, self-centered or pretentious, yet carried himself with a level of independence and confidence that typified the Indigo Children of the new era. He was just himself, this was refreshing to be around. I didn’t understand him not having a home, but that wasn’t any of my business. As long as he treated me nicely, I didn’t have anything to worry about.
He looked at me strangely. Feeling like I’d been caught with my pants down, I had to check just to make sure. Thankfully, all was well. He kept on looking. Aware that people were like mirrors reflecting our true nature, I let go. Nothing seemed out of place: emotions felt plasmatic, thoughts like clouds on a sunny day. My body however lay limp and lifeless. In a vision it became a useless piece of skin clinging at the end of me; a piece of toilet paper on my shoe of life. Mustering the courage to move, I tried to flick it off from me, but instead it just moved and revealed just how shriveled and deflated it had become. Turning inward, I did what I did best, I chastised it for letting me down and exposing my true inner self and not looking healthy and in charge like it should’ve been doing.
My face underwent a series of palsic undulations to a critique of voices: ‘How should I look? Do they believe me? Do I believe me? How do I feel? Don’t go there. Too late. Relax. Can’t. Sit up straight. They won’t notice. Do the right thing. Remember the interview. Hurry up before you scare them. Okay, here we go….’ I sat up, clenched my emotions, clamped down on my mind and peered outwards to a chorus of laughter. “I obviously have nothing to hide,” I retorted, playing the sarcastic fool. All the while making incremental adjustments to how I believed I should look to them, to anyone – wise, secure and in total control of myself.
Predictably accepting my offer to smoke them up made them relax. Introducing themselves with the usual comic book character names made psychological profiling almost unavoidable. So, I stifled a smile before it got out of control. I let them start the pipe but, already feeling high enough, declined when it came to me. Instead of being grateful for the free dope, they were offended. So I gave in to peer pressure.
After a few hoots, the sound of drumming pounded out a tribal drumbeat as visions of ancient Africa surfaced. Skin tingled as if corroded by acid. Emotions expanded and contracted, breathing life into my stagnant being. My mind zoomed like a jet plane taking off. Digging my energy into the earth like the roots of a tree, my energy zoomed past the planes of particle physics into the multi-dimensions of quantum reality. Undulating in rhythmic pulsations, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think and couldn’t move. A yelp escaped from my mouth and all eyes fell on me. Feigning a smile, I tied my energy around the core of the Earth lest I leave it forever. I cringed, fearing that I might have to warn them before my heart burst and spattered them with my HIV-infected blood. Yet, taking someone’s life while I could still do something about it didn’t feel right whether I was going to die or not.
Pushing the energy surge back, it slipped from my grip sending my life force catapulting from my body. In one uncontrollable heaving panic attack, I puked my rage at the world, life, God and the like all over everyone and everything. “Like taking a good dump,” I snickered apologetically, but they were not amused. With my energetic constipation finally over I felt lighter and thankful to be alive. From the fuzziness, pins and needles coalesced into sensory individuation. Awed by the sheer magnitude of my experience, I was also scared I was unraveling molecule by molecule into the primordial soup of existence. Having never died before, I turned to the others, but by the looks on their faces could tell it was way beyond their help. In a state of surrender, I floated away to the nether regions of my high.
“Breathe Mike, breathe,” I gently reminded myself, “Just breathe….”
© Michael J. Varma, The Gong Show, 2011 –
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