don’t dig it

recently, i had my first experience with lsd. i must say, it was not what i expected.

certainly, it was wonderful. but intense. not intense like god’s little magic mushrooms, intense emotionally. it seems, at least in my case, that lsd leads to intense self-evaluation.

who am i? where am i? why am i?

and i got in this long linear nonstop though train. about my scene. i should explain.
i’m reading jack kerouac’s book, on the road. and page by page, its leading me to reexamine my life. i know he didn’t write it to blah blah blah about how great it is to be beat. but sometimes, thats just the way it reads. and being the semi-impressionable guy i am (that is, i take after people i admire), i can’t help but want to live the unpredictable life that the reflective, very well-read, aspiring young writer jack kerouac is living. and i cant help but put friends of mine in the shoes of neal cassidy and allen ginsberg, two other characters in the book (of different names). now neal is easy to pin. i have many friends that are almost as interesting and wild as him.

now allen ginsberg. theres a tough one. i think i can honestly say i don’t know anyone that even gets close to how interesting that fellow must have been in those days.

and from that simple, trivial fact, sprung an ache in my heart. the terrible ache, the void. problematic and nonstop. i begin to evaluate, and suddenly everything seems so wrong. i have friends, and i love them. but they are not like me. i feel i am the semi-accepted monkey raised with a pack of wolves. no junglebook for me, friends. being a man raised by wolves is a completely different situation. had i been a man, and they wolves, i would have been raised above them. but i do not feel like a man, or even a boy. i feel like a nothing. i feel like a clown. i am here to entertain. my wellbeing is not at stake, nor my education, nor my self-respect. i may be part of a large freak show.

what is my role you ask? i am the wanderer. i walk about as if i’m living life in this strange world, the only one amongst the players and the patrons that does not see the situation for what it truly is.

the scene is comfortable. but it is not fulfilling. i keep telling myself “i can dig it,” then kicking myself saying “no way man i need to experience my life.” maybe its the midwest, maybe its the people, i really cannot say. but i will survive. i know i will survive this, for i have all a traveler needs; my wits, a beautiful girl to love, a pen, and a guitar.

xo