Curt returned home with goods in hand. It was getting late, he would have to retire soon for the trials of morning. Gail was watching TV and Curt just felt like laying back. He passed off the beer, gave her a kiss on the cheek and went into the bedroom to get high and relax. There was a spiritual element to using, a quality, supernatural in the essence. A way to escape, or a way to inflict mania. Caught in the moment, before the drugs took hold, anticipation played a role. It seems that Curt was always waiting till the next one, Gail too. The anticipation would subside but the compulsion to use never did.
It also seemed that drugs were all around. Everywhere. This was America, alcohol in every gas station, a dealer on almost every corner. In as much as Curt was trying to escape himself through the drugs and alcohol, he was trying to escape his feelings and emotions. In this regard, not only was he dishonest to himself, but to others as well.
More will be revealed. . ..
"Petrified emotion lets go of times pendulum."
Curt awoke, late as usual. Getting high he started his day. The coffee pot was on full tilt and he had a double espresso back. Today was going to be a good day he couldn't wait. Between the night before and the mood he was in nothing could go wrong, yet.
Curt made his way in the dark to the 450 line he left Gail in the darkness of the couch and headed off to reap his spoils from the door factory. It was a straight shot down Woodward and a 1/4 of a mile off the bus line, near downtown. He had two hours to get there
Passing through Highland Park about half way there, Curt put on his walk-man and listened to the Doors, Soft Parade. Good, old classic, American rock. Much had changed in America during these times, for good or for ill millionaires were being made. Along with rock and roll, sex, and glory. Chaos was the new currency. Curt knew the good times were coming to the end. No one else of his generation came to believe but he alone had vision. He knew his own good times were getting pretty reckless and they too, had to be ending. He could not hear it from his friends or Gail, and his Dad was so tired and sick that anything made sense. 'Put me in peril, put me in paradise anyway will suffice' that was the motto.
'Now, here I am with you and that is all that matters'
People, like time come and go and step off. We all travel the same deer trails looking for that little spot of sun that reflects our true nature and there is the mystery of life. The rest of the time, we are unable and unwilling, and we see ourselves and our actions through the eyes of those around us. And what is the use in that so the television can tell me how to feel about you and then myself?
Curt kept thinking in this manner- he almost missed his stop.
He pulled the chain early, had to have a spirit
before going on
yes the eternal cigarette of shame. . ..