Gainesville (VI – X)

Gainesville (VI – X)

VI.

Lightning flashes immediately in front of us, mother earth raising a thin, questioning, eyebrow to the activity of her children.

“Hydrocodone….liquid?”

“Nah…it’s no good with the ephedrine.”

And the DXM and the mushrooms and the liquor and the marijuana and the nitrous oxide.

Driving like a holiday parade downtown, just barely idling through the traffic, streets filled with glamour of the night despite the storm.

“You were telling me about Judith.”

I met her at Soucas, a local club. Chance meeting, on organic and synthetic psychotropics, alcohol, smoking like a fiend. I could have sworn nothing came out of my mouth that night except blundering gibberish–I vaguely recall ranting about cat dissections and the striking textures of different types of flesh. Held her attention good enough though, and she asked me to call her. Who was doing this thinking? Told me her name was Judith.

“Damn it Satan…stop sending me your women!”

Oh Jesus…did I just say that out loud?

Nights out of time and I finally invite her over in a classic move–a home screening of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and The Naked Lunch, neither of which she has seen, but has heard great things about, of course. A liter of wine, one movie down, and we intermission in the hammock for a smoke and a kiss. Resume the wine, and the second movie–turns out she’s a fan of Ralph Steadman (Dr. Gonzo from Fear and Loathing).

We retreat to the bedroom for music and conversation. Judith is supermodel thin, almost six-feet tall, petite and interesting face complete with a pierced septum, labret, and a bar through her tongue. Pure candy. It’s not long before the writhing becomes intolerable and we safely commit the act.

It is safe to say that for some time now I have been suffering from an increased sense of paranoid delusion. Precious few firmaments that I had previously thought to govern the universe still existed–and even these are slowly slipping away. I’ve been attempting infinite objectivity, allowing for all possibilities, and all this lingering doubt has made me a hypochondriac of the soul.

Full on experience, I had no desire to be relieved of this safety. She agreed to come with me for a two o’clock whippit run.

The mood was sooooooo comfortable between us. Serenity and excitement with each tidal breath. We made it back, cracked nitrous, had opening remarks on music and art which would be used in The Future; whatever that was…

“Let’s try both taking a whippit before we kiss…”

She topped that with a palpable thought and a mischievous smile, “Why don’t we both do one and then breathe each other?”

I watched her inhale first, pass the cracker to me and exhale. Took my hit and we made a resuscitation seal between us–I exhaled into her lungs. Three breaths, four breaths, five–my god this is so fucking cool, recycling the nitrous between us, half conscious, connected to one another as our clothes shed like reptile moltings.

At it again–but this time is different–more animalistic, we found ourselves in lascivious positions, an exercise in chaotic delight, our shadows raced through the flickering light of the candle….

How could I second guess this? I’m supposed to be relying on instincts for this kinda shit but my subconscious has already taken ahold and that god damn thing’s been on the fritz since high school. This all just seemed too uncanny…

Her flattery was a problem. I’m sooo beautiful…I’m sooo funny…I’m sooo intelligent; I just seem to spew out brilliant shit–I told her I was channeling Buddha’s asshole and that even got a laugh.

“Mmmmm….oh, my god…you’re…you’re soooo big….”

And it seemed as earnest as it was depraved. I mean, I’ve had girls fall for me before…but never this fast, and never this carnal….

So, basically, I got the fear over the true intentions of this succubus and all of her trappings. Could be a god damn vampire. I’ve heard that they lure you into the rapture of orgasm and feed off you in those helpless moments of ecstasy. Then again, I seem safe enough, lying next to her purring cream silk body, stroking her shoulder with my finger. Or maybe that’s it…maybe she’s waiting till I let down my guard to take me–hell, I don’t know how a god damn vampire feeds…maybe she needs an open gate in my mind to steal energy telepathically…maybe she’s already done it….

We slept till noon when she woke me up to say goodbye as I watched her dress. Paid close attention to her ears; they were thin and elven…almost battish…

I’ve gone pretty far this time…the well of insanity runs deep. Probably giving this girl the eye for no good reason, but I can’t help it…I must read the signs, whatever they might say….

I have but one ace up my sleeve, one secret weapon amidst the ether, and it is the purity of my love for Anne….keeps me anchored safely to reality, and it is her reciprocal love that gives an extra tug on the line when I drift too close to the Straights of Dementia.

Two nights later Judith takes me out for coffee with a friend who, of course, nods off early leaving us alone in Judith’s house.

“I have someone for you to meet.”

She produces an eight month-old, solid black kitten that effervesced personality in the true form of the rare familiar. Luckily, he seemed to accept me.

“We call him Lucy…short for Lucifer.”

Maybe she’s on to me…panic!…but I know how to play it with this crowd…don’t admit nothin’…

“He’s beautiful; how long have you had’em?”

“A few weeks…really he was weaned too young…he’s still got the suckling instinct.”

She showed me her art studio along with all her work. Not bad, not bad, not bad. All this real life getting to know you stuff was starting to relax me. Coffee and conversation…I couldn’t see some evil force revealing weaknesses like this…I wish my instincts hadn’t been bulldozed by the rest of my mind.

We started getting intimate, but she was menstruating and did not want to take off her boxer shorts. Instead, she began kissing me all over my body, slowly and purposefully. Lucifer jumped up onto the bed so I scratched his ear; Judith continued, undaunted. The cat slowly became more aggressive, nudging and palpitating my arm until finally, he stuck his face straight into my bicep and began a tremendous suckling. That fucker was strong…if I didn’t get a hold of him soon, he’d start drawing blood.

Judith’s got one arm pinned down and I’m using the free one in an attempt to try and restrain this crazy fuckin’ cat–I don’t know if I could defend myself from both of them and whatever mystical threat they might present. After all I’m on her turf this time and who knows what that could mean? I get the beast off me and none too soon.

“Would you mind if I pleasured you?”

What could I do but smile and try to keep myself from grabbing a makeshift cross while screaming, “Back, you filthy blood sucker!” I was on edge, but in control. What could she possibly do to make me any more vulnerable than I already was?

Oh……….that. God damn…whatever the hell this girl was, she was something– special…I didn’t realize you could….Jesus Christ…she p…..

She worked on me for twenty minutes, only pausing to tell me things like ‘how beautiful my penis was’ and ‘how wonderful I was for not being circumcised.’

Like a wave ebbing back from a break, so had my paranoia ebbed for the moment. This girl was too real to be any sort of demon. She had family and a real life. So for now, I could relax; but I was constantly aware that the next mischosen dark phrase with some sort of mind altering substance might well send me straight back down the gutters of suspicion that damn near killed my libido just now.

God damn those ears are battish….

VII.

Fidel, “No, I don’t think there’s anything shady about her, seems like she has a cool vibe.”

That’s good to hear.

The Full Circle club was almost empty tonight. I’m beginning to think that getting Fidel and John to hang out together is going to be far more annoying than it’s worth. Superficially they get on just fine. They’re polite…congenial even, but these people play out ancient feuds one moment at a time, a conglomeration of subtle underhandedness and the age-old doublecross. For instance, they’re fighting over Sasha.

Pretty little minx in a red dress (of course) playing affectionately throughout the night with both Fidel and John until each one separately confided to me that they believed they would be going home with this girl. In the end, John had won the moment of the red dress, but Fidel moved immediately into the next skirmish by making late night plans with Jill, John’s non-monogamous girlfriend. Their blows are light, but well aimed.

Jill and Fidel came to my place for a night cap and a movie. Not a half-hour later, John shows up at the door, “I figured you’d still be up…oh, looks like everybody’s still up…” He was protecting his weakness, and his strength…there would be no victory for Fidel tonight; and possibly a double victory for John?

VIII.

I recently introduced Fidel to Nitrous Oxide and have been getting him a pretty regular supply at his request. At his home, with his wife, we took hits off the infinity complex.

“My God, you just completely disconnect for a second or two.”

I smiled and agreed as he charged my hit in the cracker. Nitrous oxide comes in the form of small highly pressurized aluminum cartridges about two inches long. These are inserted one at a time into the “cracker” which is a liter canister with a valve on it that accepts the highly pressurized gas. The cracker is then put to your mouth where you press the valve to slowly release the gas into your lungs as you inhale.

He handed me the device and I began to inhale…seemed like a lot gas in this one, I don’t think Fidel completely drained his hit. I inhale until I can’t take any more…wow, I’d better sit down before I…..

I woke up to Fidel’s face coming at me and backing away from me with incredible speed. Instantly I knew what was happening but could not motivate any change from my body. I was in a mild asphyxiation convulsion and was spasming all over the floor beating my head against the chair. It’s difficult to see yourself behaving in this manner and not be able to do a god damn thing about it.

My head was soaked with blood; I got Fidel to show me to the bathroom before his wife came downstairs to see my embarrassing predicament. Cleaned up to a reasonable level and attempted some casual conversation, which was not difficult as the adrenaline from my embarrassment had made me strikingly sober.

I came in to Fidel talking about a dream he’d had as a kid, “…and God told me I’d died and that’s why he answered all my questions; but I told him I’d rather go back to life if I could just forget the stuff he’d told me…and apparently I came back, because I can’t remember a single universal answer!”

“Yeah, I had a weird dream just recently where this guy was taking me all around this dark gothic mansion, slowly trying to explain some of the questions I have about life. He knew intimate details about my life and told me this was because he was the strongest person I’d ever met. He told me I was a vampire. I said, ‘Well if I’m a vampire, how come I’m not experiencing their powers?’ and he replied, ‘Because you’re not feeding.'”

Laya, Fidel’s wife gave me a bit of a serious look and said, “You know, you shouldn’t take that kinda thing too lightly.”

“Yeah, I guess it probably means something…the guy was a real interesting person, he wore this long flowing gown of brillant red and blue…”

Laya gave a dead look as if she had just seen an ex-boyfriend kissing her best girlfriend, “Red…and…blue?”

I nodded and she rolled her eyes.

We kept talking and she confided that she was a medium…she could channel foreign spirits. There was definitely an air of strength about her person; she was very confident. Between the two of them, it does not surprise you when you find out that their baby is already beginning to speak about three months ahead of schedule. An ancient gene pool that boy has…

IX.

The Judith necronominon pathetically continues…a few days before, we had been caught by her ex-boyfriend with whom Jude still lives…he didn’t burst in on us or voyeuristically listen at the door before making himself known, but he did attempt to enter the single bedroom of the apartment, found it locked, and figured it out. We got dressed right away and came out to the living room.

“Hi Nick, this is Jack…”

He looked up at her from the couch and simply replied, “Fuck you,” and proceeded to the bedroom mumbling and cursing….he threw all the sheets off the bed and slammed the door.

Tonight I went over to Judith’s where we met up with some of her friends and left for the night. Around three in the morning, we returned (as my car was there) to find that Nick and a friend of his were becoming grossly intoxicated. The second he realized I was there his mood changed…an undisciplined violence emerged…he began randomly throwing miscellaneous objects about the apartment…talk ensued of burning things on the back porch…the poor boy could not sit still.

Not wanting to agitate this tension into a frenzy, I told Jude and her friend I was going to leave….

“…he’s not being like this because of you, when John and Nick get together, they’re always like this…”

Whatever…funny they attempt a patronization gag.

Unfortunately, John’s car was blocking my escape. I tried to send it through the friendlier side of the grapevine that I needed that god damn car moved if I was to leave and bring peace to this household. But they were being Dicks…request denied.

Plan B…seems like I could plow through some brush and exit through the neighbors yard. Those who would talk to me did not object so I gave it shot.

Course’ I had to back up as far as I could to make the angle work, and it seemed like I might have tagged John’s car in the process. I pulled half way out and stopped (not wanting to do an asshole drive-by) to inspect his car for damage. As was expected, they had been watching my departure with much anticipation and came out front when I had stopped.

“I think I may have touched this car.”

Here was Nick’s chance, “Mother Fucker! You fuckin’ touched my friends car!?!”

I was squatting by the front bumper looking for damage and he took advantage of this situation in a simian display of male posturing, “Get the fuck away from the car!”

I moved back, still squatting, wanting him to have an unthreatened dominance. There wasn’t anything unnerving about this, my instincts told me I was in no danger.

John: “I think it’s ok man…”

Nick, staring down at me, lays into a resentment routine, “You are not welcome here. I don’t ever want to see you in my house ever again!”

“Alright…I can understand that.”

“All you can do is get the hell out of here right fuckin’ now!”

And he stormed off inside. Thanks for the hospitality Nick…

Got back in my car and made the rest of the way through the jungle mess until I hit asphalt when this great god damn hissing noise attacks me from behind. Oh mother of god–I must’ve broken a sprinkler valve, adding insult to Nicks brain tumor, and damaging more god damn property. I look all around behind me and don’t see and water squirting out of the ground–and I figure out what it is–my fucking tire’s blown.

There’s no way in hell I’m stopping to change a fucking tire in this miasma of bad vibrations. They see something’s going down as well and I gun it before any words can be spoken. About a hunnard yards up the road I pull off into a closed restaurant and spend an hour changing the dirtiest motherfucking spare tire ever to grace this world of our lord. I’m assuming they figured I was ok because nobody came looking for me in that short distance and knowing what good samaritans these people all were…

I was one snide remark away from triggering a testicle slapping match, and he’s probably lucky I was in that callous mood being an even skinnier, art-faggier art-fag than myself.

It is now six a.m. and I cannot sleep because I have to go pick mushrooms after all that rain we had. And after that I have to be at work.

What the hell was I doing here? I sit zombie-eyed and ponder that question, wondering if all this bad noise was over sex. What sense was I too make of my tolerance for this repugnant fucker? The only thing I knew for sure was that I was going to need alot more ephedrine and nicotine if I was going to make it through this long terrible day that lies ahead….

X.

Well, god damn. It seems theres’ maore to this infinitey co plex than I’s reckoned’g my god, I cant’ believe I’, carriying on like this…..had an intensive experience with Anne tonight.

The summer finally came to a head last night. No more carefree moments of hedonistic delight. Something broke that wave and I’m waking up in the stagnant benthos of the Real World….

A friend was visiting from Atlanta. I had gone mushroom picking the previous day in order to prepare for her arrival. She was a rare success story from academia and was soon to be rewarded with a profitable career. We began the evening by eating the mushrooms and watching a Dracula movie.

The mood was set- dark sensuality, marijuana, the shrooms creep up at the base of your throat with a warm giddiness. It was time to explore the world with people in it.

Fidel was at the club, of course…within five minutes he’d had us smmmoking with “Nikki” a masculine vixen with horrid piercings all up and down her ear lobes….

“I got these at my store, down on the avenue…”

“Oh, yes…what’s it called?”

“Side Effects.”

“Cyber sex!?!”

Did I mention the DXM…

The club scene was entertaining for a while, but we had work to do. An Unconscious mission would not let us rest on these chemical laurels. Made it back to my place…Anne showed up at some point.

Fidel: “Guess I should break out the Geeks.”

Ah yes, the geeks. New Yorkers call it ‘the chronic’…very strong marijuana laced with cocaine…I was having trouble holding both the nitrous canister and the pipe at the same time. And that god damn movie is on again…

It was the adrenochrome scene from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and I took the fucking nitrous….or did it take me?

I floated about in a strange universe of reds, browns, and blues. There is power here. The most potent source of power I’ve ever been exposed to…Anne is with me…we are telepathically linked in this realm…and before I can even start to look around, I’m throbbing back into this lower state of consciousness which seems to be a mere residual of the true existence….

I glance over at Anne and she knowingly rolls her eyes at me…

“Say, (clearing my throat) um, could I, uh, speak to you for a second?”

Smiling, “Sure…”

We stepped into the next room.

“Were you there?…”

“Of course I was.”

“I have a couple of questions.”

“We should talk about it sometime, but now you’re being rude to your guests.”

“Well, just one thing…why do you come back here?”

“As a reminder.”

And it peaked just like that. Now the summer is officially over, and no one seems to believe me. Well, fuck’em…they’ll find out soon enough…assuming we all live through the transition….

My god, I have got to get out of Gainesville.

Since The Summer ended, I have been dragging a dead horse across the desert. The energy here is getting stranger.

It seems that life is like a bad surfing metaphor- you sit in the listless ocean bobbing up and down, getting fried in the sun, thinking to yourself, “My God. What the hell am I doing out here?” But sometimes…you catch a wave: suckling a pineal gland, the inner ecstasy…the shrieking lust groans from her climax…an orgasm of nature, fertilizing all colors into a paragorical bloom….

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked with *

Cancel reply

Recently on Ink 19...

From the Archives