The other night as I lay under rustling trees on a massive beach mat in John`s
back yard, I caught a glimpse of stars peeking through the clouds. Surrounded
by a pale soft necklace of lanterns that hung above, I drifted back to a place
forever to remain untouched and untarnished by time or consequence.

Adolescence.

The trees provided a mesh shelter from the future and the cruelty of our daily
adult dramas. On my back, a cigarettein my right hand and Shirlita to my left,
I imagined I was flying over the clouds staring down at the stars. Watching the
stars beneath the clouds induced an even greater longing to be seen by their
voyeuristic eyes. I quickly downed a bottle of sake with the help of my inner circle. Our world was
safe again. Nothing mattered except what we were doing just then, at that microscopic moment in
history. A faint chill rested in the air but the down comforter`s warmth and the bodies that huddled
close made the cold a foreign condition.

The rest of the kids could be seen lounging in the house watching "Heat" on a large screen TV
from the ultra-comfortable couch snagged from a local garage sale. The TV gunshots sounded so
clear, they reminded me of the burglar attack scene in "Home Alone" where Culkin plays a video
with gunshots that scared the real life intruders.

But as warm and content as the kids were inside, they must have been envious of the laughter
and song bellowing from the yard. They couldn't have been oblivious to the melodic joy
emanating from our protected playground, accompanied by the whistling breeze. My stomach
muscles ached from cracking up uncontrollably at Sarita's monkey antics and pirate imitations,
not to mention her clever clowning on everyone else's slow stoner behavior. I repeatedly forced
myself to get up from my supine position to keep from gagging but at the end of it all, I plopped
back down wondering if the stars could hear us laughing above them. Did they wonder who we
were - unable to see the musicians and composers of such blessed music?

Journal Index


Home