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Got My Ghoul On... before/after
Went to the graveyard after work yesterday.
Its still there.
I imagine the groundskeepers and gravediggers are starting to get suspicious, although that just may be the copious amounts of pot I've been smoking.
The key to continual, high-volume gangi smoking is an avoidance of paranoia. You can simply try to ignore it, which is next to impossible. You can recognize it, but realize you've achieved some sort of blissful full time stoning, and trust in the denial and general lack of pot savvy in the general public (especially as it seems to be growing passe', which only increases the appeal for me), which seems to work quite well, or delve right in to the deep end of luscious constant paranoia, which can only be moderated by more greenery, to the point where you are so stoned, one simply does not care if the gravedigger likely carries a boot knife while getting sloshed on cheap blended scotch-whiskey,)
Stopped at one place I have adopted. The Theis marker, which has a truly awesome inscription on the main marker. I feel they have adopted me, also. Especially Fritz and Elizabeth (Beth), who have interesting inscriptions on their stones as well.
Fritz has a staff of music, with a few bars of some notes, with the lyrics in what appears to be German, and direction in Italian.
Beth's stone says "Rube Sanft". No idea (yet) what it means.
I'll sit, and muse, sometimes posing my questions to them.
I've tried to nap in my car, but haven't been able to achieve the sleep.
And the inscription that drew me to this place is a wonderfully serene existentialist poem.
It reads:
The universe, our God
Nature our temple
Love and duty, our religion
Knowledge our happiness
And consolation
Death, the dissolution of the ego
And the return to eternity.
�
I freaking dig that.
Drove lazily around, looking for the crypts, statues, unusual markers and inscriptions that usually catch my eye.
Stumbled on the "new" part of the graveyard, where some, if not many or most reasonably fresh graves are.
New graves hold little fascination for me, unless they have some wicked things going on with the tombstone, like a photo engraved picture.
However, there was this obelisk type marker in the middle, that looked like it had a plethora of inscription on it.
Putting out my ciggarrette, and gathering my things, I got out to look.
No dice. General monument with the 10 commandments inscribed.
Like I need another reminder about how the reactionary right christian coalition feels about the way I lead my life.
Hell, who knows, maybe they'd like me in that way of general zealot distaste for all but the same flavor of vanilla. The other types of vanilla aren't so bad as chocolate...Granted, I'm a drug user and abuser, with a dual past of excellence and shadiness and possible felonies in certain jurisdictions, but I'm not gay. For some reason, gayness, porn, and abortion set these people in a frenzy of rabid foaming rage. Like there is someone out there "recruiting" for the gay porn pro-choice community. No one "goes" gay unless they are headed that way, anyway. I'd rather have everyone watch porn (naked titties vs. evisceration: you have to decide) rather than violence, and I fully support everyone's right to chose whatever the hell they want, as long as this choice does not Become My Problem. Then I will make a choice for you. A simple choice to Leave Me The Hell Alone, for reasons of Your Personal Health. Talk to your family, listen to them, whatever, but anyone who thinks they know what's best for me, better than I do, Fuck Way The Hell Off My Planet.
Looking up, walking amongst the (relatively) fresh graves where the grass is longer than the rest, because the decomposition has only been going on for a few years, I saw a group of 'homies' chillin' by the grave of what must have been a newly fallen 'souljah'.
Pouring what looked to be a 40 oz.'er on the grave. Lookin' "crazy" at my ride.
I slipped into the old innercity family-work routine. Notice, but don't look. Walk confident, unafraid. Let them check you out, but make no sign. Only way you get my attention is to get in my way. Let nothing slip. Use first impressions and the unkown to advantage.
Funny how some instincts and behaviors don't so much as fade away, but hide.
I "left them to this", and went on my merry way.
Later in the day, I saw them together in another part of town. They remembered my car, and me, pointing.
Small world.
Not too small, though. They may end up in that graveyard, while I will not.
It wouldn't be so bad, to be interred in Fairmount.
Chillin'.
Kickin' it with Beth and Fritz.
Wondering where my life had gone.
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