Back to Earth

Beaglesworth yells my name, he calls for my presence so I scamper across the field to their side across the distance. I reach them, joining their auras that I can no longer see but feel, and Jayha is already climbing down some embankment at the edge of the field, down between the trees and we follow and again we're spat out onto another river bank. This time the water is moving fast, like the waterfall downtown, a large stream emptying into a placid pool, and it is exactly like the waterfall downtown, except this one was nature's idea, not included on the blueprints to a textile factory from a hundred years ago. We pick up stones and toss them absently into the water, and for the first time we acknowledge out loud how amazing this all is, how beautiful this all is, how unexpected and rewarding a little piece of earth can be, even if we were stone sober, I know we'd drop to our knees, overwhelmed from encountering such soaring beauty in these early morning hours.

Eyes attached to our little piece of silent water, our voices mute because there is nothing to be said now, like when the Hatemachine and I walked silently and solemnly back to my apartment downtown, dirty and haggard, among the jeeps and SUVs and freshly showered working class. We stare straight ahead in the lullaby of water, under the veil of branches and swaying leaves, some fluttering gently down in the breeze like snowflakes on cold eastern eves. I caught Beaglesworth's dilated eyes, no longer alarmed, but now gently sorrowful and detached, like a Zen master who knows this is all irrelevant anyway, because nothing is permanent. So we stand there in the early morning on the river bank, and get our fill, drinking from the cup of life careful not to spill, passing it back and forth, taking our fill of unique beauty before passing it to someone else.

We climb back up to the field, and walk quietly across back to the path, praising the decision to come back here to the woods and reaping the reward in store for us. We hop onto the path and walk back towards my apartment, as early morning joggers start to pass us, out for a quick run before work on the path, and now the serenity is lost and tainted, the dream is broken because regular people are among us, saying "excuse me" and "how do you do", with a tinge of fear in their voices. We stick out like sore thumbs, clearly there is no reason for us to be out here this early in the morning, and no one would understand if we tried to explain the holy moment we witnessed down by the water. So we head back to my apartment, it is completely light out now, it is morning, and as we pass my neighbors house, I can see them suspiciously starring out their living room window at us, sipping coffee and shaking their heads nervously.

We sit around on my couch now, smoking cigarettes in the yellow morning light, trying to decide our next move. I have to work later that night, and I laugh about it. If I don't get some sleep now, I'll be awake for another twenty four hours, my head drifting instead of watching floor cleaning minorities to ensure that they don't steal from a multibillion dollar corporation. So I take off my pants because they're covered in mud and grass and we think we smell animal shit also, so I toss them off into a corner and Jayha giggles and Irish-Catholic Beaglesworth turns away as I walk into my bedroom and say "goodnight."

I lay on my soft, sad mattress, sad because it's the only piece of furniture in my bedroom besides a shitty, white table which was there when I moved in. But it's fine, and I realize as my head begins to clear, and I see everything in this reality for the first time again, that it's all I really need. I close my eyes, and my cat comes bounding in, purring and seemingly upset that these crazy humans were awake all night, keeping him up, and it makes me wonder briefly about my neighbors too. I start to giggle about it, then laugh out right, real loud and maniacally. Jayha and Beaglesworth hear me, and they can't help but laugh too, and we're all laughing for no reason at all, and I'm sitting there with a wall between them and I, with a giant smile on my face, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.

The windows are all open, my makeshift curtains flutter beautifully in the sunlit wind, drifting and barely touching the tips of my toes. Loud motorcycles are really common in this town, and they roar by, echoing throughout my thin walled apartment, with loud trucks shaking the whole thing to its foundation. I close my eyes and marvel at the patterns and geometry dancing about in my eyelids as my tired, tired body pleads for my brain to rest so it can too. Then I hear Jayha and Beaglesworth having sex in the other room, and I pretend it's just an illusion, the acid playing tricks with the sounds of the traffic, but no, it's just the muffled sounds of people trying to have sex quietly because they know I'm still awake, ten feet away. It confronts me with my loneliness again, and I feel lousy that they're having sex in my apartment on my couch, and I tell myself that if there's any jizz or vaginal juice, or any black light stains I'm going to react harshly. But then I realize that I've had sex before on Beaglesworth's couch, on his parents' couch, actually, so I feel better and struggle not to laugh again, because it turns out we're even. Catch it when it comes around.

I finally fall into a restless sleep somewhere in between the dizzying patterns and orange spirals in my mind. I wake up a few hours later surprisingly refreshed, with my mouth and teeth feeling strange like they always do after a good trip. I take a long shower, standing under the water, half asleep almost, but more awake than I have been in a week or so. Everything is optimistic and bright, sunny and new to me, I feel like a man fresh out of prison. I get out of the shower and walk naked back to my room wanting to eat fruit. I toss on some clothes then go to wake up Jayha and Beaglesworth, but they are already gone. I'm not sure if they left while I slept or while I showered, but I don't care because at least they turned the bed back into my couch so I didn't have to confront any black light stains, although I briefly realized that the chore of cleaning up cum is better than cleaning up blood.

Regards, Esortnom