Walked down to the end of Rushcutter bay. It seems to be the place I go when I need a Saturday afternoon chat with ...whatever might be out there listening.
I sat on the wall at the end and watched the sun glitter off the ocean, sparkling into my half closed eyes. It felt most divine. I let my mind undo reality for a while. Felt good. Took the pain of the hangover off.
Then a tune I had downloaded came on my iPod; Passion by Gat Decor. It threw me because I hadn’t heard this tune since I was high on ecstasy back in Turnmills in London during the 90’s. That glitter in the eyes mixed with the flood of joy at such an unexpected recollection hit me hard, and I remembered we nearly made it. We touched heaven on those nights. So far out of our minds we were insane enough to be liberated for a moment. It was tribal and wild. Half naked stomping about a club, feeling the love, dancing like bastards, like we had escaped the suffering, the pain, the drudgery of real life. For a few hours we had.
It’s a cruel twist that most of the people on that journey back then are now either dead, or struggling with inner demons from the effect of long term drug abuse. Glimpsing heaven has a high price. No one wanted to come down, so generally we didn’t. I don’t think drugs are a bad thing. I think we are searching for something, and there are going to be causalities until we get there. If we ever do. Freedom costs lives. We are trying to direct our evolution, speed it up.
I felt ok in my reverie looking out on the Harbour. I felt pleased with myself that I had made it this far. I was living on the other side of the world. Lost the good friends, but escaped the bad. Next week would see me move to Bondi, finally getting to live by the sea again. Last night was a full moon. It felt like a change had come, my phone broke too, so I lost all the numbers of people I had met since being here in Sydney. It was a new beginning and I knew this. I understood the rules of destiny. So I went out and got drunk alone in a club. Enjoyed the music. Always following the music.
I walked back home through the afternoon sun and Kings Cross. I was feeling pretty good. As I walked up the back streets I noticed two people at the top by a phone. It was a deserted street. I suddenly knew there was something bad about these two. I could see it. I can’t explain that, but my instincts are fine-tuned. I trust them. I was right. As I got closer I could see the eyes, I could see the effects of ICE wearing off. I crossed the road. They looked at me. It was jungle. We all knew something, like fucking telepathy. I knew they would kill me for money, and were high and in a bad place, and they knew that I knew it. I felt the chill of fear. Could this be it for me? I wondered. The creatures shifted as if trying to figure if they could take me. I knew they could, but I couldn’t let them know it. I then slipped into my own dark place. Nothing mattered there. I caught the eyes again and in that moment the bad stopped. No one wants hell to descend, everyone wants the easy life. Hell is a look in the eyes that means it. I figure all three of us were already in hell, none of us needed to make it any worse. It would have got bloody.
Fuck ICE. I am glad I gave up full-time narcotic abuse before that stuff hit the streets.
I pass the trouble, turn into the main road and am glad to see normal humans milling around doing what they do, shopping and talking and shit. That was close. It’s always too close. This is the world I live in. It is ugly and cruel. It is hungry and dangerous. It is nature in all her murderous glory. Beautiful to observe, terrifying to experience.
All we wanted was a shot at freedom, a real chance to make it, we never made it, we ended up in Hell. But some of us survive yet. We saw heaven, almost believed she was a real place, almost dared to believe. In a week I will be by the sea and my journey will continue. Maybe I am still a believer. I just don’t really know anymore. It is like I am in auto-pilot willing to fight only because I dont know what else to do.