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| Blogs > Ultraviolet_Sol > Ultraviolet_Silence |
A Clockwork Shroom
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A Clockwork Shroom Strangeland I was me; that is, [Vault of Stars/VOS]; [Vagabond/V], also known as The Guide; [Alien Jordan/AJ] and his girlfriend, [Nordic Goddess/NG]. The headlights of the Jeep Grand Cherokee merged the lonesome night like secret search lights across a misty ocean's surface. Every point on the road, in a consensus sense, is merely a point of coordinates, longitude and latitude inputs be input into Google Earth. Certain of these, however, are perhaps different, instilled with the imputed meanings bestowed by We. This particular point of coordinates was a location, on an ever unfolding, prophet's scroll of a map. The night before, I engaged in profound, philosophical conversing with a seasoned deadhead. I talked to him about Nietzsche and music, as it relates to the unseen undertones of the societal matrix. He seemed to dig this vibe, offering me sacraments, which I accepted, to show no ill feeling. It occurred to me that he would be the one to know. My friend, said I. I am a fugitive in the wind. When I arrived in this Strangeland, I heard about a special place of all gorgeousness and gorgeousity. Go on. He said. I was never much of a Shaman, to begin with. He interjected. What we always were, we were always meant to be. I looked at him and nodded, solemn. Go on. He nodded. was a half day of school. I had a wrestling meet that day. I was a junior, second year<b> team </font></b>member, that was supposed go against last year's state champion. I would say that I was starting break away from convention, if I was ever really a part of the conventional. I never really wanted be like anyone else. Normal. Consensus. How could be otherwise? Yeah. He nodded. My friend and I had acquired a special commodity, from a fugitive, in a dark alley somewhere or nowhere. We determined that this half day of school was a perfect occasion. He had a real chill spot. A sort of... Magickal laboratory. His lair always permeated with the sacred. He was capable of producing alchemy in the form of sound, taking fragments of completed works and creating a new form of completion. A real genius. In a wooden box was the merch. Neon green in color. I'm starting to feel... Strange. I'm not totally shore how I made it back to the school, or why I am eating Laffy Taffy in a sound-filled gymnasium, all neon like. Today, I attribute it all to the self- mechanism that guides a tribe of shape-shifting jaguar hunters in the jungle. And so began. And, as though the universe sought memorialize this moment, a year book photographer snapped a pic, my last HS activity. He casts a glance of knowledge. So when I arrived in this Strangeland, having heard of the special place, I naturally sought it out... *. *. * |
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