Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Ahhhh, the feeling of the ocean air...my head gone numb, and sweet, sweet insanity!

June 17, 2010
3 a.m.; on the beach in North Myrtle, S.C.

Sitting on the sandbar
Sipping on some relief-bearing drinks
This endless ocean in front of me
When will these waves swallow me whole? Or will they at all?
My eye on the north star
In fluid thought, fueled by fluid
I’ve floated rather far

Sand beneath me
And sky overhead
The stars, they guide me
The lightning; my light
(this is a night for my head to be cleared)
On this beach -
I could live here
And die here
But I need you with me FirST
The air in my hair
This vast empty darkness in front of me
So full of life, unseen
Insomnia has me, once again…
Drinking; again.
But awake.
Wide awake. Not wanting to miss the night.
The night, and it’s silences
Are my companion,
My guide,
As always…


3:35 a.m. Still Beachfront, sitting in front of the Atlantic Breeze Hotel…

Vodka, gone.
Two beers down.
Tokiin’ over the line (sweet jesus).
….Sitting here in my solitude
I have my music (now listening: The Mars Volta - Televators)
I have  nearly everything that I’ll ever need. So I wonder - if this precise, singular, solitary, isolated and personal moment -
Could REALLY be good enough for me
Som e of m y favorite things in front of me-
I have m y crutches ( my hang-ups; fixes ,fuck-ups, etc.)
Here with m e
I can finally  unleash my inner demons
They’ve been pent up
A ll day.
“Pull the pins…”
                        (save m e)
“…..save your gra ce…”
                     (may I be redeemed?)
“…mark these words on his grave…”
                     (or will these crutches trip me and put those words                                            in  stone?)
I’m thinking that the only point of being is the pursuit of the sanctity that I have searched for countless times before.

My companions - my:
                           Music.
                           Pen.
                            Paper.
                           Crutches.
                           (god damn these crutches)
I’m not standing out
I’m trying really hard to blend in. One with Earth and Nature.
Respectful of it, and appreciative.
That’s how I want to blend in - mesh together with the sand and sea (night three).

I’m glad that I’ve gotten this opportunity
To basically make sweet, passionate, hot, sweaty LOVE
To myself.
By pleasuring and reconditioning my very soul;
And drenching it -
Actually - completely submersing it
With alcohol
And cigarettes and the weed (the weed, man - it eases my soul)
And the sounds of the sun, and a portal another world, all in front of me.
I am completely oblivious to anything else besides being calm and feeling drunk (satisfied) and not giving
                                         2 fucks
                     About who’s around me
                     Or what they’re doing
              We’re merely passer-bys.
At last, (actually, once again) I sit alone and feel completely ALIVE
And revitalized.
COULD this be
What the beginning of peace feels like?
Darshan.
“Ultimate contentment” in Hindu…
Is it possible -
At all -
That I have begun to reach a point of satisfaction that results in my happiness?
Sure.
Of course!!!!
I give thanks and great praise to our mother; nature - Earth, for allowing the solitude and peacefulness that brought me to this place.
I have now officially separated myself from well, everything -
And had a total spiritual thing  with nature.
And myself.
I’m beginning to learn that our shortcomings all weigh out along the way. They are the result of other emotions, turned to stronger emotions, which will often lead to misunderstandings
And complex, weird
       Utterly overwhelming
       FRUSTRATION about those very things- the shortcomings of others.
It’s all cake at the end of the day….
              ******************************
                           ***************
This notebook is damp. Moist from the ocean air. And about right now, I sort of wish I had someone here that could take a picture of me at this near total contentment . And I can’t help but to think of a photo of someone whom I hold highly in rank of influence on the writing side of my life -
                     Dr. Hunter S. Thompson.
In said photo, HST is sitting cross-legged on the beach, cigarette in hand, beers in tow, as he looks away from the camera.
This, is what I have just reminded myself of - (As I), sitting cross-legged on the beach with my drinks, beers, a cigarette in one hand, and a pen in the other -
Looking ahead into the sky and everything surrounding me…
Looking, overly sarcastic and menacingly - at the sky; the intermittent lightning and at the people who walk by.
Back to HST -
(He was) A loud voice, and an individual.
                     -but-
I know that he never wanted what he got. Most of it, yes. But not totally wanting everything else; not in every way.
“Because the devil, was an angel too…”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
I WISH that you were here, or that you could at least see me RIGHT now -
I’m a little…
                     Not sober
I’m pretty, well…happy…
And covered in sand . And time is approaching, near and nearer. Soon, I’ll get to have my baby’s beautiful body in my arms, again.
I once heard that “absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
I think of Oliver Stone’s ‘Natural Born Killers’ and Patsy Cline’s “Back in Baby’s Arms”.

              “When them people come here and ask you who done this,
              You tell ‘em - ‘Mickey and Mallory Knox did it! Say it!”
A truly twisted design in the movies that are based on the tangles of love. A fantastic story.

**Insert Big hugE Time Gap HerE***
OH, this night
I’m trying to write
But I am flooded with thoughts in rapid fire succession instead.
I love you, Todd Jacob Williams!!!!
And how I wish; how I wish you were here (we’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl OR are we just two misfits that no one else gets?)
HOW I WISH YOU WERe HERE!!!!!
You shou ld  be sitting here in sand with m e…
We could pretend
That we are making our own “Wicked Games” video and be connected and consumed
              By love
                           And Sand…
(Tonight, I write)
              I LOVE YOU
(and don’t worry ‘bout a thing…Cause every little  things gonna  be  a lright)

You are      m y hope
                My  lust
                My  love
                My dope
If   I ca n have YOU
Then, I ca n be ME
And   now, it’s a bout 5 a.m. .a nd  it’s tim e to   leave this beach.

- fin-


Copyright K. Anne Smith

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