We were camping out at Wolf Range Point, and most of the residents had already left their homes to join in the celebration; what holiday? we’d made our own: Recreation Day. The purpose was to dissociate in a social situation – being surrounded by your junkie peers was always a spectacular experience. Absolutely everyone was completely fucked.
I looked across the field into the massive flames spouting off a torrential bonfire the freaks had erected. It rose as my perspective of it widened; “hey everyone! I have arrived!” Whoops and jeers. One of them who’d obviously eaten a couple too many sheets started to charge me, belting out “rakakaka-bashuu!” I’d normally react by fainting from utter fear, but something deep down inside of me made me get the fuck out of there; maybe it was the weed. The forest around me looked like wholesome cover, so I dove into a moss-patch, clinging to the ground in a horrified state. I could hear him rustling around; it sounded to me as if he’d recently come to believe that he was a predator; a giant bird beast that roamed the woods, gouging its prey to death with its enormous beak. This was hell.
Suddenly, I felt my skin was covered with huge ants that had been ejected from their slumber in the greens below me. I couldn’t help but yelp like a wounded dog, scraping the earth away in a failing attempt to escape this fate; woe, woe, woe was me. Then . . . “sshhhhhhhhhrrrrpt!” Bursts of light rose on the horizon; some redneck bastard had set a bottle rocket in the flames, and the thing was flying straight at me! The ants had long dissipated at this point, shook off by the sweltering sweat that flew off my glands. Shakka-boom! I bounded out of the way, slamming my head straight into an oak nearby. Fuck this shit. Ow. Somebody call the ambulannn . . . What? Who is? I think that drink hit me harder than I’d expected it to.
There was a profound darkness that fell over my consciousness, lulling me into a deep hibernation that would recuperate me. Perceptual stillness.