Barstow 120 was actually created the day I considered leaving college. With my head injected of thoughts to large to comprehend this place was my medium of writing. I was supposed to write and write and prepare for my departure. People at school knew I was leaving the second they read one of my blogs, whether they knew it or not. Once again Barstow 120 is the relevance of a small desert shanty town that is in correlation with everything important in my life. Places i've lived, people i've loved, things I wish had never exsisted. Barstow being one of them.
I come back to this blog after a bizaare three days of self discovery and Kool-Aid. I fucking hate self discovery, but I fucking love Kool-Aid. With a super nova state of confusion I found myself the only way I knew how, buying tons of weird shit. Dvds depicting a new found love for 80's saturday morning cartoons, a Daft Punk movie that has reviews as mixed up as Tom Bradys sexuality, and a hookah that induces deja vu' every second I look at it. Apparently the remedy for such a state is the combination of all three. I put on He-Man, set fire to the shisha, and looked through a post card booklet that came with Electroma.
I'm at peace. Not everything is perfect. Actually nothing is really even that good. However I am getting by and that is by and by the biggest by to bye bye.
Actually the biggest eye opener is a chart of everyones sexual shenanigans that was created by the god of Cal Poly Pomona. I still have no idea how I should feel about it but it elecits the memory and reminder of why I gee tee ef ohhh'ed out of there. It's insanity brought on through little red and green lines. Never had I thought something with the color scheme of Christmas would give me such a hard on for life. I always pictured myself more of a follower to Hallows Eve. I should write more but I have to dissect my life for a Psychology paper.
It will be titled "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle cereal is why i'm BAT SHIT CRAZY NOW!"
I leave you with something I wrote in a myspace blog, recounting what is still the greatest night at Cal Poly Pomona. In my eyes at least.
When left in the wake of a mass exit from the Palmitas dorm hall a certain ambiguity falls over the few last remaining residents. I say this because it is a feeling of vagueness. Left to your own devices you are forced to provide water, food, and sanity for just a single day or moment. If I had not known any better another day there would have left me scarred thinking people were never coming back.
I inhaled at 10:30 P.M.
Exhaled at 3:00 A.M.
Banding together with two comrades that I had just recently become accustomed to hanging with for more than ten minutes at a time came to my aid. Or rather we met in a neutral territory with plans to expand. In and Out sounded delicious. No surprise, it was delicious. Mind this all taking place at 7:30 P.M. it felt as if I had just woken up at four. I'm better than that though. I woke up at two. Then wasn't fully aware of my surroundings until four. Time had shifted.
In and Out had satiated my stomach but my mind still hungered for something other than Mythbusters re-runs back at the dorm. Heading towards the nearest smoke shop I had a quarter less than a sawbuck on me. Pitching in my monies, the other major characters of this night made their purchases. Walking away we held forth the legal key to what I thought was unlocking my thoughts. Salvia.
Salvia reminds me of the cruel mistress experienced at a fellow robotics members house. Smoking it in my past out of a bong i'm not sure what hit me. The pot or the 20x of salvia. Whatever it was I had caked it onto the inside of my lungs. I fell backwards for about seven minutes. Broken only by the single lamp standing in the room. Ironically it was above me and I had no idea moving up was possible in the seven minutes. We had listened to three tracks off a Doors vinyl. It almost makes sense. However the tracks were each about 5 mins long. Time shifted.
This attempt I had a mission, to take in enough until my brain forced me to surface for air. Admiring the butterfly cut out of the package, my driver recieved a call. His father wanted him to pick up a suit. A ploy by the salvia gods to warn us of the impending leave of reality. Our act of defiance was laughing in their faces. Wal Mart probably sold suits. If this menial task had been accomplished nothing would have changed in the night. Which is bizzare to reflect on because at the end of the night everything we did played no major role in the future.
Calling bluff we continued to the dorm. Getting a parking spot fifteen feet in front of the building enforced to us that we were the last beings. My room was cold. Roommate was there. His presence laid no reassurnace to life since he would have been gone in an hour. And he was a cripple. Fractured leg, crutches, and keys in pocket ready to drive home. Door shut and window open laid to the defences of random intruders.
Sadly to say I was first to go. First to be disappointed. Salvia could almost be bizzare enough to trip the people that are just watching you. However the first stage is intense giggling. Fearing that the only thing I touched upon was my inner school girl laughing at my commrades sleeves I forced myself to settle down. A room that seemed cold as the fridge quickly evolved into the microwave that convinently sits atop of the fridge in my dorm. Trying to pull meaning out of that, there's nothing but the plain fact that I started sweating balls. An inept sense to smoke developed. Smoke from the piece, the cieling, my lungs, and my commrades hits. Being such a small side effect shocked me. The effect lingered for enough time to fully enjoy it. Opening a bag of burned popcorn revealed the gold mine to intuition. I wanted to bring up the story of the guy who got cancer from breathing in Popcorn steam all his life. However Salvia did not want to hear it. I shut up before I started speaking. With such a chance to observe, I did. These people I was with talked amongst themselves. The Popcorn steam triggered their own stories whether they knew it or not. Soley on my raction people were pleased. Random individuals had come and gone. By the end it was just the trio. Inspired to do more there was a change of rooms for the three of us. Two Twenty Seven did not provide a good hookah vibe. It had Salvia Vibe. Never confuse the two.
Salvia in the moment seemed to have failed me thus setting the night open for even more disappointments. This tripod of men searching for a release on college angst switched rooms. My Commrades room had a double monitor set up that teased you of awesomeness, but the screens were awkward sizes. Never really portraying one solid set up but rather the illusion of two different computers. However the mouse had free reign which tripped balls in its own respect. (I just realized there's a running motiff of me stating something "balls".)
He had set up a snowboarding video on the larger of the two screens and kept the social scene alive with AIM on the other. As far as Snowboarding videos go this one was mediocre. Some charming personality exsisted but the way it was shot and certain segments drawn out, I grew tired of it by the end. As a way to recover the immediate sense we needed smoke of some sort. Not so much as a krutch for the night but smoke had become a reoccuring theme. Glad I had smoke. Pissed off that everyone was gone to enjoy it. Finding some of my best conversations are around a hookah i've grown to enjoy it. Doesn't seem to come often to the point where it will kill me someday, but often enough to call it a friend.
The flavor for tonight was a shot of Raspberry. In my head I already had it planned out tasting like Brisk Raspberry ice tea. Although it wasn't strong enough to actually have my fantasy come true it did have a light hint of the berry found in the sweet drink. Subtle. As I watched the second snowboard movie it just felt right. Within 10 mins of the movie I could easily point out why this one was so much better than the last one. Each boarder got their own song for their own segment. I wasn't sure if I loved the movie until I heard Suffergate City start up, yup I loved it. I see Bowie so rarely in the music scene today that it's definately refreshing to see the "Yeah Bowie. I listened to your shit back in the day. Fuck these kids." pop up in pop culture.
As Hookah died out I had finally mastered the O's in smoke. My only goal in college is to spit out letters exclaiming "Mo Money, Mo Money, Mo Money!" I figure the commas and exclamation point will take some practice. Looking to eachother my associate and I realized this was the best snowboarding movie ever made. I can gauge a movie on how good it is by making you want to do something so badly afterwards that it plagues you when you blink. We were left with no other coice than to attempt snowboarding. Timewise it was about one in the morning. With heads full of hookah, snowbard in hand, and a digital camera with a full roll of film we headed out. Me being an asshole I went to my room and checked myspace just to make sure no one was urgently trying to contact me at one in the morning through the intranet. Oh, and I grabbed my aviators. Another slick move to douchebaggery.
Praying the Salvia and hookah gods aligned in the heavens, we just wanted a good night. I was left in charge of picture taking duties. Which proved to much for my platter/. Hand me a camera and you will be in the lower right side with beautiful scenery engulfing you, or since it was night, complete darkness. I don't think any of us fully realized that snowbaring on wet grass was an impossiblity. Maybe if it was cold enough to convert to ice. However we were only standing there freezing our balls off. BALLS, I said it. I traded the camera for hauling around a big ass snowboard. Snapped some cool shots of cheap scooter tricks. One of my colleagues ate shit. Then we headed back to the dorm. Still aware of smoke or just the cold breath in air I felt my significance.
Significance is what I set out to find.
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1 comment:
lol. i ate shit
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