The sanctuary can only be described in one word; vast. Its magnificent ability to encompass the mind and envelope the soul is nothing less than impressive. This is the place I consider my special chill zone, because its size combined with its terrain makes it the perfect area to hang out in. There are many places to hide and many places to be seen in plain sight in this area. There are long ditches dug into the terrain like mini canyons, where you could hide if you wanted to. Please god, take me away to this kingdom of immortal youth where I sacrifice the pain and the stress on the alter of joy. A place that's right for every girl and boy to maintain their youth and their right to live a happy life. One big hill, two square miles, three big smiles, eight happy years returning to my spot. The only place more sublime than a parking lot, hours of climbing and singing my favorite Sublime songs, pretending my old friends are still here, singing along-having a blast, my only connection to the past, I often find myself wishing it could last but what's the fun in never participating in your future? I guess sometimes you've gotta look behind you while you're walking forward, to see the history pure and clear.
The year was 2005; me, Richard, Billy, Eric and Brandon going to the hill, having the time of our lives. Climb the hill on the Sanctuary with folding chairs, a cooler of soda and snacks. Hot summer days weren't a laughing matter, just talking about life over a Sprite or a Dr. Pepper. These were the days when the friendships were strong and we used to hang out together. The days so special we all remember. Now things have changed and everyone is gone, I try to patch things up with Eric but he won't come along to the hill. Richard and his two brothers Billy and Brandon were next to leave the scene, moving to Wyoming I mean. Now I'm left behind in Colorado, with many friends I don't think I'll ever see tomorrow. Steven stopped hanging out back when I had strobe lights in middle school, eventually I became a loner. I became the socially awkward man I am today. It was a slow, painful process that I somehow survived, I mean I still crave the social aspects of life and I say to myself "One day I'll be on top again, but for now I'll just stick with what I know!".
As I ascend the hill, I imagine the faces of lost friends and recall the stories untold. As I smoke my Pall Mall menthol cigarettes, I look down upon the city where I hung out with my friends. I can see the Mr. Biggs that closed down last year, I can see the BMX park being taken down and replaced, I can see how the mall has changed and become a duller version of itself. In a way, the Sanctuary is a grave sight for the fallen soldiers of eternal youth. So much disbelief at the destruction I've seen. I swear, if all my friends weren't busy, I'd be partying on the hill. The smoking and the soda drinking, it could've lasted forever. My man Chris is too much of a rule follower to party, my man Zack is too young, my homeboy Steven is too busy, my brother Kevin is too far away. If there's one thing I'll be honest about, it's that I never expected to be alone by the time I was in college. For me, the party's never over, it's really just begun. May the party last forever, bringing me closer to the light. If only there was some way to restore my old life…
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Hookah Bar
Smoke rolling off the tongue like a fog machine, blowing off some steam. Friday night, beautiful girls, familiar faces and a smokin' hot scene. Ten dollar hookah smoke fee. Better bring your money, cause the smog will set you free. Higher and higher the smoke rises, releasing tobacco chemicals into the air, freeing your soul. I first fell in love with The Coffee & Tea Zone when I found out that they have a hookah bar every night from 8:00 PM until 12:00 AM. My discovery of this hookah bar was completely by accident. I happened to be sitting in my dad's van while he was picking up some Yakitori for dinner that night. The Coffee & Tea Zone has a very attractive pixelated sign which changes messages every few seconds. I happened to notice the sign advertising "hookah night", so the following day, I dropped by to inquire the details of this amazing deal. The woman behind the counter explained to me the hours the event was held and what days. I came back that night with ten dollars, just as the woman had advised me to do.
As soon as I walked into the store, a man asked me if I was there for hookah night. I told him I was and than I gave him my ten dollars. After that, he told me to pick a spot to sit down at. There was a long row of booth with several small tables adjacent to one another. There were several people sitting down, smoking hookahs. Most of them were women. I had a good feeling that they were high school seniors (or at least that they had been out of high school for a year). I was surprised that they were eighteen or older, most of them acted and sounded like they 14 or 15 years old. A part of me was hoping to score a new girlfriend (I assumed there was no way those women could be younger than 18, despite the fact that I thought it was a strong possibility). I happened to meet one of the people I went to high school with. His name is Jared and when I was having a conversation with him, he told me he was a nightly visitor for the hookah bar. As soon as the manager bought a hookah over to me, I started smoking it. Immediately, I began to cough over and over again. I was amazed at the quality of the hookahs they had at this casual night time hookah bar. I had never experienced such a smooth, invigorating smoke session before. The flavor was outstanding, the smoke production was impressive and the coals seemed to last forever.
Before I set foot into The Coffee & Tea Zone, I had been experiencing what I suspect was the symptoms of a migraine. I tried to ignore the overwhelming headache, but as the night progressed I began to have a different attitude. Eventually, I started feeling nauseous and light headed. Finally, when I could stand it no longer, I opted to leave. I offered up the last of my hookah time to a woman who had just walked in a second ago. She was more than happy to use up the rest of the remaining time I had left on the hookah. I dragged myself home through the shortcut. Once I finally got home, I felt sick and had to lay down. For the next hour, I tossed and turned on the floor, the sofa in the den and finally the bed. When I figured out that there was no comfortable position in which I could lay down, I decided to take a nice warm shower. I huddled in the corner of the shower, knowing full well that I was going to puke any second. In one final vein attempt to avoid vomiting, I laid down on my side in a fetal position. And that's when it happened-I puked all over the floor of the shower three times and then crawled to the other end of the shower to lay down. After a few short minutes, I decided to get out of the shower and as luck would have it, my dad was there. I told him about what happened and he cleaned it up. What caused my migraine and nausea to occur is unclear, but I don't blame The Coffee & Tea Zone for it. Becoming ill after experiencing minor symptoms and smoking before getting sick leads me to believe that you probably shouldn't smoke a hookah (or anything for that matter) if you start to feel under the weather. I'm sure that's a piece of advice that's common sense for most people, but I just thought I would point that out.
I have not been back to The Coffee & Tea Zone since that day. Not because I'm afraid of getting sick, but because I don't always have the ten dollars or the time to go back. If ever I feel the need to leave home and it's eight at night or later, you can be sure I'll be showing up for the nightly hookah bar. The chairs and setting are very comfortable and inviting. The environment the night time employees create is laid back and care free. As a matter of fact, the staff likes to hang out with the customers while watching television. The Coffee & Tea Zone is the perfect place to meet new people during hookah bar hours. Since I'm single and lonely, I think I'm gonna have to drop by again some time and see who's there to meet. When you're in my shoes, it's always a good idea to keep your options opened.
As soon as I walked into the store, a man asked me if I was there for hookah night. I told him I was and than I gave him my ten dollars. After that, he told me to pick a spot to sit down at. There was a long row of booth with several small tables adjacent to one another. There were several people sitting down, smoking hookahs. Most of them were women. I had a good feeling that they were high school seniors (or at least that they had been out of high school for a year). I was surprised that they were eighteen or older, most of them acted and sounded like they 14 or 15 years old. A part of me was hoping to score a new girlfriend (I assumed there was no way those women could be younger than 18, despite the fact that I thought it was a strong possibility). I happened to meet one of the people I went to high school with. His name is Jared and when I was having a conversation with him, he told me he was a nightly visitor for the hookah bar. As soon as the manager bought a hookah over to me, I started smoking it. Immediately, I began to cough over and over again. I was amazed at the quality of the hookahs they had at this casual night time hookah bar. I had never experienced such a smooth, invigorating smoke session before. The flavor was outstanding, the smoke production was impressive and the coals seemed to last forever.
Before I set foot into The Coffee & Tea Zone, I had been experiencing what I suspect was the symptoms of a migraine. I tried to ignore the overwhelming headache, but as the night progressed I began to have a different attitude. Eventually, I started feeling nauseous and light headed. Finally, when I could stand it no longer, I opted to leave. I offered up the last of my hookah time to a woman who had just walked in a second ago. She was more than happy to use up the rest of the remaining time I had left on the hookah. I dragged myself home through the shortcut. Once I finally got home, I felt sick and had to lay down. For the next hour, I tossed and turned on the floor, the sofa in the den and finally the bed. When I figured out that there was no comfortable position in which I could lay down, I decided to take a nice warm shower. I huddled in the corner of the shower, knowing full well that I was going to puke any second. In one final vein attempt to avoid vomiting, I laid down on my side in a fetal position. And that's when it happened-I puked all over the floor of the shower three times and then crawled to the other end of the shower to lay down. After a few short minutes, I decided to get out of the shower and as luck would have it, my dad was there. I told him about what happened and he cleaned it up. What caused my migraine and nausea to occur is unclear, but I don't blame The Coffee & Tea Zone for it. Becoming ill after experiencing minor symptoms and smoking before getting sick leads me to believe that you probably shouldn't smoke a hookah (or anything for that matter) if you start to feel under the weather. I'm sure that's a piece of advice that's common sense for most people, but I just thought I would point that out.
I have not been back to The Coffee & Tea Zone since that day. Not because I'm afraid of getting sick, but because I don't always have the ten dollars or the time to go back. If ever I feel the need to leave home and it's eight at night or later, you can be sure I'll be showing up for the nightly hookah bar. The chairs and setting are very comfortable and inviting. The environment the night time employees create is laid back and care free. As a matter of fact, the staff likes to hang out with the customers while watching television. The Coffee & Tea Zone is the perfect place to meet new people during hookah bar hours. Since I'm single and lonely, I think I'm gonna have to drop by again some time and see who's there to meet. When you're in my shoes, it's always a good idea to keep your options opened.
Diamond Shamrock
Too lazy to drive to Farm Crest for that tobacco chew, gonna walk to the Diamond Shamrock to get a pack of cigarettes for the price of two. I remember almost exactly two years ago, went to the shamrock for my first pack of smokes. Back when I didn't know what I was getting, I just asked for Keith to pick out any pack of smokes. When I was eighteen, they knew how to do it right. They had a decent amount of dips and the most amazing selection of smokes I've ever seen. I wish I could say the same thing about their selection of dip, but their inventory has plummeted to such an extent that I now go to Farm Crest for my dip instead of Diamond Shamrock. I live less than a mile away from the Diamond Shamrock corner store. There are two ways to get there on foot; one is long and tedious and the other way is incredibly short. Whenever I run low on cigarettes, I always go to Diamond Shamrock and I always take the short route. The short route is interesting, because it involves taking a pathway most people wouldn't think to take. Behind my backyard is a trail, and to the right of the trail, there's a small creek. If you walk thirty-six feet up the trail from behind my house, you'll notice some small trees. If you go into the collection of shrubbery, you can walk down a path and up a small hill. After that, you walk through the roads of an apartment complex, where you get to the parking lot where the Diamond Shamrock is in less than three minutes.
I dread going to Diamond Shamrock, because I hate having to walk somewhere with so many "obstacles" in my way just to get there. Once I get to the Diamond Shamrock, I'll ask for three packs of Pall Malls. I tend to go through a lot of cigarettes, especially during the summer time. Pall Mall menthols in the green box are what I have always gotten. Pall Mall menthols have slowly become my preferred cigarettes. Once I'm done purchasing my cigarettes, I jet out of there pretty quickly. I really do wish Farm Crest could take Diamond Shamrock's place. I know for a fact I wouldn't complain. Diamond Shamrock is nothing special really.
I dread going to Diamond Shamrock, because I hate having to walk somewhere with so many "obstacles" in my way just to get there. Once I get to the Diamond Shamrock, I'll ask for three packs of Pall Malls. I tend to go through a lot of cigarettes, especially during the summer time. Pall Mall menthols in the green box are what I have always gotten. Pall Mall menthols have slowly become my preferred cigarettes. Once I'm done purchasing my cigarettes, I jet out of there pretty quickly. I really do wish Farm Crest could take Diamond Shamrock's place. I know for a fact I wouldn't complain. Diamond Shamrock is nothing special really.
Kevin
Little wannabe gangster by the name of kevin, we went to Kindergarten together years ago. Didn't really see him very often, but we went to school together for years and knew each other well. Never really spent time together, but we just kind of had an interesting friendship. Always really cool in the elementary school years, he'd hang out with the cool kids and talk about riding his BMX bike all the time. In his high school years he was way into hip hop like my bro Steven. Good attitude, good person, good reputation it seemed nothing could slow him down. It wasn't until Senior year of high school that he openly admitted he had been in drug rehab a few times. Last time I saw him was about two months ago. He and Cole were driving by my house and Cole accidentally nailed my mailbox. We had a chance to chat and hang out for awhile and than Kevin left with Cole.
Just the other day, my ex girlfriend told me that Kevin's mom was kicking him out of the house the next day, if he couldn't pay her $40.00 before than. I came up with a few suggestions on how he could make the money in time, but I don't know what the situation with him is now. I'm guessing he failed, but that's just a guess on my part. Situations like this always make me wonder; "Why does this always happen to the good people!?". Now I can just picture Kevin walking alone in the cold, dark streets. I guess that's why I haven't been able to sleep! He's one of the people I'd like to hang out with and just have a good old fashioned smoke-a-thon with him. Cool guy, loves cigarettes and he probably has a passion for dip too. I always felt real close to him and I always thought he had a great attitude towards life and other people. Kevin really is one of the few people a freak like me could hang out with. Steven went to elementary school with me too and we've always been friends. These days, Steven is just like me and Kevin; he loves dip and smokes. These are both of my bros, my homies, the only fucking people I can relate to and have fun with besides two or three other people.
One day when the time is right, we'll be able to drink together-just the three of us. I can see it now, a shitload of smoke coming out of Steven's car as we're smokin', and jokin', and having a good time! The cool thing about the three of us is we're never too fucking busy to hang. Man, I can still remember that $80.00 tattoo Kevin got. He showed it to me and I thought it was fucking cool. The three of us are way into music, maybe we could form a group or something? I don't know maybe that's just me wishfully thinking, but I would be impressed if we could pull together to do something like that. I know Steven has recorded a few songs himself. One of these days, we're golden! Until than, I'm just gonna do my thing and hang out on my own.
Just the other day, my ex girlfriend told me that Kevin's mom was kicking him out of the house the next day, if he couldn't pay her $40.00 before than. I came up with a few suggestions on how he could make the money in time, but I don't know what the situation with him is now. I'm guessing he failed, but that's just a guess on my part. Situations like this always make me wonder; "Why does this always happen to the good people!?". Now I can just picture Kevin walking alone in the cold, dark streets. I guess that's why I haven't been able to sleep! He's one of the people I'd like to hang out with and just have a good old fashioned smoke-a-thon with him. Cool guy, loves cigarettes and he probably has a passion for dip too. I always felt real close to him and I always thought he had a great attitude towards life and other people. Kevin really is one of the few people a freak like me could hang out with. Steven went to elementary school with me too and we've always been friends. These days, Steven is just like me and Kevin; he loves dip and smokes. These are both of my bros, my homies, the only fucking people I can relate to and have fun with besides two or three other people.
One day when the time is right, we'll be able to drink together-just the three of us. I can see it now, a shitload of smoke coming out of Steven's car as we're smokin', and jokin', and having a good time! The cool thing about the three of us is we're never too fucking busy to hang. Man, I can still remember that $80.00 tattoo Kevin got. He showed it to me and I thought it was fucking cool. The three of us are way into music, maybe we could form a group or something? I don't know maybe that's just me wishfully thinking, but I would be impressed if we could pull together to do something like that. I know Steven has recorded a few songs himself. One of these days, we're golden! Until than, I'm just gonna do my thing and hang out on my own.
Sacred Hell
Upon the smooth concrete floor where the darkness has no end or beginning, dust and dirt from year's past gathers in the subtle approach of night. Your day is over, but mine has just begun. I step into the filthy surface, heels first onto the dirty floor. The transition from the comfort zone into the darkest future that I have ever known is now complete. A place so cold, so dirty, so foreboding that it makes men like me afraid to set foot in it. Three footsteps in and the door closes behind me as if preventing my escape, time to celebrate my life before it's too late. Every time I slowly step in, the sadness quickly dissipates. If I weren't feeling so unsure and insecure, maybe I wouldn't be in here tonight! Light switch on the wall, I quickly turn on in a panic as the comfort begins to elevate. Suddenly things aren't so bad, because I'm in a familiar place again. The darkness in the garage represents my fear of the future I won't survive to see. Might as well party on until I can abandon reality. The absence of two cars makes enough room for me to pull a table and a chair into my favorite demonic lair.
As I plug my radio into the only outlet in the wall, I consider my indolence in the enclosed abyss to be the only escape from the prison walls and limitations I created for myself. I am a prisoner of my obsessive compulsive fears. The same fears that keep me up at night, the same fears that see the darkness in the light, the same fears that dwell in the young minds of children and turn them into adult train wrecks like me. The only thing that justifies the fear, is the prison in the garage. If I didn't need to run away, the garage would be useless to me. In a way, we all need an escape; something to take us far away. Most of us are intelligent and bold enough to face the demons, but broken men like me seek refuge in rundown places, seeing them as earthly safe havens to heaven. Nirvana cannot be found, but it can be created by those who are bold enough to imagine a world that defies misery and rewards the desire for inner peace. For me, the garage is such a place; it inspires me to detach from the world and live the life that isn't possible by worldly standards. A place and a time that inspires you to reflect, reminisce, plan, relax and remain detached from your major stressors is a time and a place which makes you a god/goddess in a world of mortals. You are untouchable and in harmony with yourself because you are choosing rejuvenation over suffering. No one has the emotional, psychological or physical strength to fight their way through life without a "soul break" as I like to call it. If you go too hard for too long, your will power will be crushed and so will you.
In that moment when I have the radio on in the garage, I've got my hookah going and I'm smoking a cigarette, I know that I am home because I know that I am free from the mental slavery that tells me I must suffer to find freedom and real happiness. I often find that in this environment, I can actually enjoy eating, drinking, smoking and being by myself. My fear of the future does not exist here, because in the garage the future doesn't matter. The way my hookah so sublimely fits into the scenery, the way the cigarette and cigar smoke tastes and smells in there is amazing! I usually love sporting my Coor's Light hat while I'm in the garage too. The way the light shines through the only window in the garage completes the picture of serenity for me. Here in the garage, I am my own man and no one else's. I come out of the garage feeling renewed and ready to take on the world. I really enjoy and appreciate my time in there, as it is truly a wonderful place. No one bothers me while I'm smoking and rocking out to some kilo. It is a fantasy come true, where my imagination is allowed to run wild.
As I plug my radio into the only outlet in the wall, I consider my indolence in the enclosed abyss to be the only escape from the prison walls and limitations I created for myself. I am a prisoner of my obsessive compulsive fears. The same fears that keep me up at night, the same fears that see the darkness in the light, the same fears that dwell in the young minds of children and turn them into adult train wrecks like me. The only thing that justifies the fear, is the prison in the garage. If I didn't need to run away, the garage would be useless to me. In a way, we all need an escape; something to take us far away. Most of us are intelligent and bold enough to face the demons, but broken men like me seek refuge in rundown places, seeing them as earthly safe havens to heaven. Nirvana cannot be found, but it can be created by those who are bold enough to imagine a world that defies misery and rewards the desire for inner peace. For me, the garage is such a place; it inspires me to detach from the world and live the life that isn't possible by worldly standards. A place and a time that inspires you to reflect, reminisce, plan, relax and remain detached from your major stressors is a time and a place which makes you a god/goddess in a world of mortals. You are untouchable and in harmony with yourself because you are choosing rejuvenation over suffering. No one has the emotional, psychological or physical strength to fight their way through life without a "soul break" as I like to call it. If you go too hard for too long, your will power will be crushed and so will you.
In that moment when I have the radio on in the garage, I've got my hookah going and I'm smoking a cigarette, I know that I am home because I know that I am free from the mental slavery that tells me I must suffer to find freedom and real happiness. I often find that in this environment, I can actually enjoy eating, drinking, smoking and being by myself. My fear of the future does not exist here, because in the garage the future doesn't matter. The way my hookah so sublimely fits into the scenery, the way the cigarette and cigar smoke tastes and smells in there is amazing! I usually love sporting my Coor's Light hat while I'm in the garage too. The way the light shines through the only window in the garage completes the picture of serenity for me. Here in the garage, I am my own man and no one else's. I come out of the garage feeling renewed and ready to take on the world. I really enjoy and appreciate my time in there, as it is truly a wonderful place. No one bothers me while I'm smoking and rocking out to some kilo. It is a fantasy come true, where my imagination is allowed to run wild.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Pall Malls Are Freedom
Menthol madness kills the sadness like the morning sun kills the moon. Gentle wind massages the face and beard as ska music completes the mood. The sky is bright and cloudless, who needs to sing the blues with the mellowness of spring? Birds sing as the chorus of life takes its tole on the cruel winter wind. Oh please sweet menthol mint, take me to the outdoor tropics. Iced tea lemonade in a soda can, everything is quiet, generic and bland with a touch of excitement pulsating through my neutral hands. God of sun and light, make this atheist's future bright! Stone cold, seashell rainbow table warm and bright, filled with light; won't you rescue me from the night? Black jacket covered in holes, burning my skin and soul, care to take a spring time stroll? No time for stress, danger, anger, fear or self-loathing when the flowers in the garden are growing.
A two-by-four prison in the backyard cures ruthless criticisms and jeers, bewildering trolls and overly critical peers. Wallet empty without despair, I hope the day never ends! Here, money is not an issue but an object of deception and distraction. Attention to finances is a math problem with nothing but subtraction, adding to the negativity and taking away from the positive distractions. Sunglasses on face, ready to leave this place in the mindset of nirvana, Colorado is just another name for the Bahamas. Soda can covered in a pornographic sleeve, I hope I never have to leave. The kingdom of Marlboro topples as Pall Mall barely follows the popular cigarette trend. An entire day with Pall Mall menthols, I'd rather spend, because the price range of Marlboros and Camels make unsatisfied smokers such as myself tear and bend our dollars. My cigarette case decorated with ace of spades is the only place my Pall Mall menthols belong. The intensity of each fatty I blow, another one of my problems a cigarette stole.
Cigarette one feels like my sadness is done, the second makes it impossible not to have fun, the third one lifts the curse and the fourth one feels like a second birth. The smell of smoke is a source of pride, leaving me thankful for the sweet ride. Lord knows the truly blessed are the ones that suck and blow (on a cigarette I mean). Lawn chair, messy hair, zero cares. That's the way life is meant to be lived, says this smoker, sucker and blower. Better do it while it's still spring and summer, before it gets colder.
A two-by-four prison in the backyard cures ruthless criticisms and jeers, bewildering trolls and overly critical peers. Wallet empty without despair, I hope the day never ends! Here, money is not an issue but an object of deception and distraction. Attention to finances is a math problem with nothing but subtraction, adding to the negativity and taking away from the positive distractions. Sunglasses on face, ready to leave this place in the mindset of nirvana, Colorado is just another name for the Bahamas. Soda can covered in a pornographic sleeve, I hope I never have to leave. The kingdom of Marlboro topples as Pall Mall barely follows the popular cigarette trend. An entire day with Pall Mall menthols, I'd rather spend, because the price range of Marlboros and Camels make unsatisfied smokers such as myself tear and bend our dollars. My cigarette case decorated with ace of spades is the only place my Pall Mall menthols belong. The intensity of each fatty I blow, another one of my problems a cigarette stole.
Cigarette one feels like my sadness is done, the second makes it impossible not to have fun, the third one lifts the curse and the fourth one feels like a second birth. The smell of smoke is a source of pride, leaving me thankful for the sweet ride. Lord knows the truly blessed are the ones that suck and blow (on a cigarette I mean). Lawn chair, messy hair, zero cares. That's the way life is meant to be lived, says this smoker, sucker and blower. Better do it while it's still spring and summer, before it gets colder.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)