pseudo GoTh eNcoUnTers

I went over to Smoggers house last night. James was there too, sitting in the dimly lit TV room. Smoggers asked me if I smoked pot and I replied that I used to, but had given it up. I sat down on a couch (the room seemed filled with long sofas) and watched him light up a huge joint. Before he passed it to James, I asked if I could take one drag of it. I held the smoke in and passed the joint to James; my head filled up quickly and I let the smoke go. James was smiling at Smoggers; a girl came in, said something, then left (I think she was Smoggers fiancee); he then revealed that the pot was laced with all kinds of drugs (crystal meth, speed, heroine, cocaine, crack, you name it.) I became worried that my one toke was going to make me freak out, that I wasn't going to be able to handle the high. I felt very far away from them on the couch.

Smoggers put on some industrial/rock music. It sounded amazing under the high so I asked to see the CD. We huddled close so we could look at the CD sleeve together and talk about the music. I promised to them that I would buy the CD the next day, and I felt very happy that I'd discovered a new (and unknown) band. The CD sleeve was green, with bits of yellow on it, like a fragmented brazilian flag, or the poster of a b-movie.

30 Years and one day ago

Kevin's birthday yesterday. Trip to Richmond Park. Overground train. Sunny with clouds casting much-needed shade. Richmond shops Sales. Tickets for Charlie & the Chocolate Factory at 15:00. Ham & cheese baguette for lunch with a cafe au lait (one sugar). Police everywhere. Neon green. Elderly on the benches facing the Thames. Swans. Gulls. Pigeons. Garbage on the grass. Joggers. Bikers. Walkers. A family straight out of National Lampoon Vacation (with German subtitles and ginger hair). The Old Deer Park. An empty cricket field. Planes landing in Heathrow, flying overhead. Squirrels. Crows. Obelisks with carved messages: Markus loves Emma, Rudy was here. Shirtless teenager snipping the hedges. A sports centre. An anorexic girl, hair pulled tightly back, purposeful steps. Car alarm in the parking lot. Back down the highway to the Thames again. Down the old path, almost to Kew Gardens. Through the foliage, a tall white obelisk -- a crane on its top, almost a statue, until its head turned. Photos. Condoms on the floor, planks of wood over the marsh that lead into the bushes. Thoughts on what goes on at night in this lonely path: solitary men, jeans, jackets, glasses, fumbling hands, dirt, sex, telephone numbers, silence, steps. A walk back to human humdrum, past a woman who should paint watercolours. Pubs by the river, children with big afros. A bench covered with moss. Conversations about life, about people being like rivers. Finally the cinema, sold out, children everywhere. Ads for 20 minutes straight. Oliver Twist, by Roman Polanski, coming soon. Charlie better than first expected. Exhaustion back outside. Pizza from Tesco Express. Train home. Sissy Jennifer cooking fajitas. Chocolate cake. Stuffed stomach. Tea. Big Brother. Toothpaste. Toothbrush. Bed.