(previous chapter)
It wasn't long until it was time for Nelsonville Music Fest. Since I lived in the woods around Nelsonville at the time, moving my tent to the festival was a no-brainer for a camping fee of only $30 for the weekend, like I'd be anywhere else anyway - I've got pride in my home town, and Nelsonville Music Fest is our pinnacle of awesome.
I'm used to volunteering at festivals, or doing something with my time to keep me occupied and meeting people, but I waited too late to apply for Nelsonville. Instead, I racked my brain for things I could do, ways I could add something to the event. In addition to gathering trash, I settled on an idea I had seen at the Ocala Rainbow gathering - Gone Postal.
My weekend was spent going around the campgrounds, delivering festival mail. It was the greatest expression on people's faces when they got mail at the event. I found people by having the person writing the letter I was transporting describe the person I was looking for, their camp, and about where they were located, on the letter. Most of the letters got delivered successfully. I even delivered exactly one letter to someone I already knew - N's brother!
Unfortunately, I was unable to afford the full ticket and wasn't a real volunteer, so missed out on any music that wasn't in the campgrounds. I heard that, when the Flaming Lips played, they sent up a giant balloon that said, "Fuck Yeah Nelsonville" on it, and when it popped, a bunch of kids converged on the pieces and sold them to the crowd for $20 each.
At this point in my life, I figured my next stops would be Wisteria Summer Solstice, then on to Nationals in Michigan, then up to Maine to work on a farm. In the meantime, I wanted to see N again before I left, but wasn't sure where we stood anymore. I messaged her to ask if I could stop by before I left if I behaved, and she told me that she didn't want me to have to behave, she just wanted me as a friend, and that I would see her at Solstice. After trying for the last couple years to get N to like me as something more than that, and her still insisting she wanted me as a friend, I figured she deserved to have me as a friend - not some flake that disappeared at every turn because I couldn't control my feelings.
At Solstice, I was back on trash crew like most any time I was at Wisteria. In addition, I also helped out in the kitchen in exchange for free meals. Besides, the kitchen is where most of my friends were, anyway. N brought Go Time and Banjo.
The council for Nationals was in South Dakota in the Black Hills on Lakota territory, but they didn't want us there. I assumed the consensus would be to hold the gathering in Michigan, which was where I had heard all year it was going to be, but council elected to stay where they were. This decision was made late into Solstice. In light of the gathering being held on native territory without a proper invitation, I elected to stay in Ohio and do Starwood instead.
As a result of staying in Ohio for Starwood, I ended up at N's house again for the in-between period, then helping out in the kitchen to get into Wormhole, which takes place the week before Starwood.
Wormhole is filled with Subgeniuses, which are people that worship a prophet, named Bob, whom was contacted by the alien Jehovah 1 to brainwash the people into working for a living, but he infiltrated their ranks to promote slack instead. They're an interesting group, to say the least, and they make some good breakfast for the "Last Pancakes On Earth."
Wormhole ran into Starwood and more hippies started to arrive. N's brother's crew's camp was set up in the same location and style as the crew N and I had been a part of when we met in 2012. The night before the big bonfire, I sat at Crossroads in the middle of the campground and shouted nice things at people, calling myself the reverse troll. The day of the big bonfire, I picked a bunch of flowers and went around passing them out, calling them torches of love and light. I dropped some acid just before my trash shift, and was starting to come up by the time we had finished. I went around the rest of the day giving out more compliments, then found myself at the Marsh Swamp putting glow sticks together just before the fire.
The bonfire is lit after the last act on the main stage, which is followed by a procession to the bonfire field with chanting while they carry the ceremonial torch. Also included in the lighting ritual is a fire-spinning show, and the chasing of new fire tribe members around the fire. There's always a firetruck there for safety reasons, but this year's fire went off without a hitch.
I saw N in a group around the fire and wanted to do a lap around the fire with her so we could talk, but I didn't know what to say and she probably wouldn't have wanted to hear it anyway. I sat down instead, because that made sense to my tripped-out mind. Some blonde girl I had never seen before sat down almost on top of me a few seconds later, and after a few minutes of talking, we ran around the fire together, then she disappeared. I ended up in the pufferdome for awhile so I could be mostly on my own somewhere comfortable to ride out part of my trip, but eventually made my way back to the fire. A few people even approached me who still had their flower from earlier, which really helped my night.
Eventually, worn, I went back to my tent. I was back in Nelsonville a day later.
Showing posts with label athens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label athens. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
Thursday, October 29, 2015
What A Ride: All About N + A Wedding
(previous chapter)
Now that I was back, I wanted to be better than the mess that left.
I contacted one of the shareholders at Wisteria Event Site about doing a little under the table work once a week so I would have some money. I didn't need much, since I was still staying in the woods, or at friends' houses. She had plenty of work to provide; mostly house cleaning, but also some yard work.
After the first day of work, I had to either get dropped off at my dad's, my uncle's or N's, as they were the closest places I could land from Wisteria. I've never been on the best terms with my dad since moving out, and the last time I saw my uncle was when I stopped by to get some of my stuff I had left behind in his cabin that I used to live in. He told me he threw everything away, and I left; so I wasn't really sure what terms I was on with him. Besides, I really wanted to see N.
I didn't have a way to announce myself, but her family had always told me I was free to stop by when I needed, and I did need to, so I showed up when it was already dark. N's step dad let me in. When I left, N had her own place and roommates that didn't pay their share and she wound up back at her mom's house while I was away. She was still at work when I showed up.
When she got back, she sighed when she saw me, making my heart drop, "Hey, Chucke."
"Hey, N."
Then she sat down, half-leaned her head onto my shoulder for a few seconds, then we were normal again.
We hung out in her room to watch a movie. After the film was done, I lay back in her bed and she didn't ask me to go somewhere else. When I tried to put an arm around her, though, she did take it back off.
When she got up for work the next morning, while she was smoking her first cigarette of the day, I took a chance to make her smile.
"Hey, guess what?"
"What?"
I stuck my tongue out. She gave me a look for a few seconds, then stuck her tongue out, too.
"Guess what else?"
"What?"
"You're beautiful."
I got the smile I was looking for, so I rolled with it, complimenting as much of her I could think of in that moment. All she could do was smile, blush, and say, "Thank you."
Since I was still a good ride from Nelsonville, I took several days each time I was at N's. That wasn't uncommon for me, nor for N's home, which is sometimes a sanctuary for those who need it. The condition was that I did work around the house, whatever N's stepdad needed; there was plenty of yard work out in the country, and the house is a constant project.
After N got off work later that day, we had to get Go Time and Trash Can, who were busking with a couple other dirty kids uptown Athens. At some point that night, I called up that morning by asking N if I had told her she was beautiful yet that day.
She giggled, "Yes, you did."
For reasons of believing a woman should hear she's beautiful shortly after waking each day, I continued to tell her every morning, but her reactions were increasingly shut-off. I figured that if I came up with more creative ways to tell her she was beautiful, I could get her to smile. It worked for awhile, but the better I got, the better she got at shutting herself off to me.
Except the time I got out of the car at a red-light to pick her a tulip. Boy, did she smile after that. It even stayed in the air freshener on the rear-view mirror in the car for the rest of the time I was at her house that time. That stay included a night where she rolled over in bed on the night before last, and linked her arms with mine. For a moment, I was so happy I didn't know what to do. All I wanted was to wake up like that. After a few moments, she sighed and rolled back over.
The next morning, when she was at work, I wrote her a three page love letter on some of the reasons I had fallen in love with her, and included a poem I had written for her in early 2013 on a fourth page.
N had been using her mom's car, and one of her stepdad's friends was buying her car, so he had me clean it out before she got home. N wanted to do it herself, and had said so, so threw a fit when she came back and it was already done. Her stepdad stormed off down the road, so N and I took her mom's car out to a friend's for awhile. It was late when we got back, and I knew it wasn't the right timing at all. I don't know what I was thinking, except that I wasn't.
The futon mattress was on the floor and, when I laid in the bed as I had been doing when it was just us, she laid on the futon mattress that night. I offered to trade spaces, but she said she was comfy; the futon mattress - which is usually on the bed - is the most comfortable part of the bed. My letter was still where I left it, under the pillow.
"I wrote you a letter."
"You what?!"
I gave her the letter, "Please, just read it. If you want to talk after, we can talk. If you want to ignore it, we can ignore it. If you want me to go, I can go."
"I'm not ready to read it! It's late, and it's been a stressful day. We've been over this before. I've got problems that I've got to deal with, and you keep popping up, and you've got your own problems. I'm going to put this right here on the table, and that's where it's going to stay until I'm ready to read it!"
"Okay," there wasn't much more I could say.
We each lied down to sleep, but soon enough she turned the lamp on and I could hear her reading the letter I had wrote. Then I heard her crumple it up. She didn't stay in her room that night, and with work early the next morning, she was gone by the time I got up.
I didn't feel like I should stay around any longer, so I went to my uncle's, with whom I had already established I could stay with every now and then at that point. My sister was staying there and paying most of the bills at the time, and her and I went to see Home in theaters that night.
Now, I have to go a little out of chronological order here, because there was a big wedding in there that I had come back to Ohio for.
The time I stayed at N's before the time I gave her the letter, she dropped me off in Nelsonville the day of my friends Bo and Lindsey's wedding - April 17th. We hugged as we parted and, knowing I might not ever really get to kiss her, I gave her a peck on the cheek. The only kiss to ever pass between us. She was the love of my life, I had to have at least one.
I walked to Buchtel when it got closer to time for the wedding, thinking all the while that N was the only one I wanted to marry. No one was at Bo and Lindsey's house, so I waited outside for them.
After the wedding, while they were getting their pictures taken, I noticed they were missing a "Just Married" sign for Bo's car, so I made one in the church really quick.
The reception was DJ'd by the local D.A.R.E. officer. That was my friends' night; I was kinda just there. The food was good. I danced. I caught the garter belt. I guess it was a good night.
(next chapter)
Now that I was back, I wanted to be better than the mess that left.
I contacted one of the shareholders at Wisteria Event Site about doing a little under the table work once a week so I would have some money. I didn't need much, since I was still staying in the woods, or at friends' houses. She had plenty of work to provide; mostly house cleaning, but also some yard work.
After the first day of work, I had to either get dropped off at my dad's, my uncle's or N's, as they were the closest places I could land from Wisteria. I've never been on the best terms with my dad since moving out, and the last time I saw my uncle was when I stopped by to get some of my stuff I had left behind in his cabin that I used to live in. He told me he threw everything away, and I left; so I wasn't really sure what terms I was on with him. Besides, I really wanted to see N.
I didn't have a way to announce myself, but her family had always told me I was free to stop by when I needed, and I did need to, so I showed up when it was already dark. N's step dad let me in. When I left, N had her own place and roommates that didn't pay their share and she wound up back at her mom's house while I was away. She was still at work when I showed up.
When she got back, she sighed when she saw me, making my heart drop, "Hey, Chucke."
"Hey, N."
Then she sat down, half-leaned her head onto my shoulder for a few seconds, then we were normal again.
We hung out in her room to watch a movie. After the film was done, I lay back in her bed and she didn't ask me to go somewhere else. When I tried to put an arm around her, though, she did take it back off.
When she got up for work the next morning, while she was smoking her first cigarette of the day, I took a chance to make her smile.
"Hey, guess what?"
"What?"
I stuck my tongue out. She gave me a look for a few seconds, then stuck her tongue out, too.
"Guess what else?"
"What?"
"You're beautiful."
I got the smile I was looking for, so I rolled with it, complimenting as much of her I could think of in that moment. All she could do was smile, blush, and say, "Thank you."
Since I was still a good ride from Nelsonville, I took several days each time I was at N's. That wasn't uncommon for me, nor for N's home, which is sometimes a sanctuary for those who need it. The condition was that I did work around the house, whatever N's stepdad needed; there was plenty of yard work out in the country, and the house is a constant project.
After N got off work later that day, we had to get Go Time and Trash Can, who were busking with a couple other dirty kids uptown Athens. At some point that night, I called up that morning by asking N if I had told her she was beautiful yet that day.
She giggled, "Yes, you did."
For reasons of believing a woman should hear she's beautiful shortly after waking each day, I continued to tell her every morning, but her reactions were increasingly shut-off. I figured that if I came up with more creative ways to tell her she was beautiful, I could get her to smile. It worked for awhile, but the better I got, the better she got at shutting herself off to me.
Except the time I got out of the car at a red-light to pick her a tulip. Boy, did she smile after that. It even stayed in the air freshener on the rear-view mirror in the car for the rest of the time I was at her house that time. That stay included a night where she rolled over in bed on the night before last, and linked her arms with mine. For a moment, I was so happy I didn't know what to do. All I wanted was to wake up like that. After a few moments, she sighed and rolled back over.
The next morning, when she was at work, I wrote her a three page love letter on some of the reasons I had fallen in love with her, and included a poem I had written for her in early 2013 on a fourth page.
N had been using her mom's car, and one of her stepdad's friends was buying her car, so he had me clean it out before she got home. N wanted to do it herself, and had said so, so threw a fit when she came back and it was already done. Her stepdad stormed off down the road, so N and I took her mom's car out to a friend's for awhile. It was late when we got back, and I knew it wasn't the right timing at all. I don't know what I was thinking, except that I wasn't.
The futon mattress was on the floor and, when I laid in the bed as I had been doing when it was just us, she laid on the futon mattress that night. I offered to trade spaces, but she said she was comfy; the futon mattress - which is usually on the bed - is the most comfortable part of the bed. My letter was still where I left it, under the pillow.
"I wrote you a letter."
"You what?!"
I gave her the letter, "Please, just read it. If you want to talk after, we can talk. If you want to ignore it, we can ignore it. If you want me to go, I can go."
"I'm not ready to read it! It's late, and it's been a stressful day. We've been over this before. I've got problems that I've got to deal with, and you keep popping up, and you've got your own problems. I'm going to put this right here on the table, and that's where it's going to stay until I'm ready to read it!"
"Okay," there wasn't much more I could say.
We each lied down to sleep, but soon enough she turned the lamp on and I could hear her reading the letter I had wrote. Then I heard her crumple it up. She didn't stay in her room that night, and with work early the next morning, she was gone by the time I got up.
I didn't feel like I should stay around any longer, so I went to my uncle's, with whom I had already established I could stay with every now and then at that point. My sister was staying there and paying most of the bills at the time, and her and I went to see Home in theaters that night.
----
Now, I have to go a little out of chronological order here, because there was a big wedding in there that I had come back to Ohio for.
The time I stayed at N's before the time I gave her the letter, she dropped me off in Nelsonville the day of my friends Bo and Lindsey's wedding - April 17th. We hugged as we parted and, knowing I might not ever really get to kiss her, I gave her a peck on the cheek. The only kiss to ever pass between us. She was the love of my life, I had to have at least one.
I walked to Buchtel when it got closer to time for the wedding, thinking all the while that N was the only one I wanted to marry. No one was at Bo and Lindsey's house, so I waited outside for them.
After the wedding, while they were getting their pictures taken, I noticed they were missing a "Just Married" sign for Bo's car, so I made one in the church really quick.
The reception was DJ'd by the local D.A.R.E. officer. That was my friends' night; I was kinda just there. The food was good. I danced. I caught the garter belt. I guess it was a good night.
----
Back to where we were in the story.
So, my uncle has a bunch of woodland property and is always looking for ways he can make money off the land. I propositioned the idea of doing a festival. He was all for it, but the decision was vetoed my my sister and aunt, whom were covering the bills, because they feared it'd just end up being a drug fest and they'd lose the land over it.
I wound up back in Nelsonville. I still wanted N, but figured that, after the letter, it really was our last goodbye as friends. She had a tattoo of seeded dandelions, starting on one of her feet and going up the leg a little ways. I would pick seeded dandelions as I passed them, think, "I wish for you," and blow my wish. At some point not long before Nelsonville Music Fest, I had one of my friends put that on my back as a tattoo based on N's tattoo's design, except the roots, which came down to shape into a heart - while hers is for her grandmother.
(next chapter)
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
What A Ride: The Journey Home
(previous chapter)
I have to admit my memory gets hazy right here because the journey happened so fast, but at some point I was picked up by a woman named Sam, who gave me a ride back to Union, South Carolina. The ride offer was to Spartanburg, but I wanted to see if I could see Dale again on my way home. Sam, familiar with hitchhikers, Rainbow, and a Ren Fair participant herself, was more than happy to help.
She dropped me off at the McDonald's in Union, but gave me her number in case I couldn't find Dale. I had forgotten how big of a place Union was, and it took quite awhile to get to the end of town that had the road to go out to Dale's, so the sun was already going down at that point and I was feeling rushed to find where Dale lived, or set up camp. I couldn't remember exactly which roads to go down, and the number I had for him in my phone wasn't going through. It didn't matter - as I found out latter the next day, I'd saved the wrong number anyway. I ended up just setting up camp in the woods not far from where Dale and I met.
The next morning, I tried again to find a way to reach Dale, but was unable. In the end, I hiked back to the McDonald's and called Sam, who came and got me and took me to Spartanburg. She took me out to eat a late breakfast before dropping me back off on the interstate.
It didn't take long from there to catch a ride out of Spartanburg, but then things get hazy again. At some point, I caught a ride with two guys who worked on cell phone towers. They dropped me off at a truck stop in Charlotte, North Carolina and told me they had a friend who would be passing through the next day who was going all the way to Ohio. I tried to contact them about their friend while eating at Subway at the truck stop, but their friend didn't seem completely reliable, so I resolved that I would set up camp that night, then hitch out as usual the next morning.
There were already a group of home bums spanging one of the intersections near the truck stop. It seemed like they were having trouble, so I offered the rest of my sub and asked directions to get me set straight, as the intersections between interstates was a little confusing.
I walked down to right by where I'd be hitching out on I-77 and, with the sun setting, hid myself in the cover of trees beside the interstate. There wasn't much depth, and I didn't feel like I would really be hiding with my tent up, so I hopped a fence to get in deeper, setting up camp sandwiched between the interstate and some industrial building.
Once again, my ride out came early in the morning. Mostly jumps of only 2-3 exits up, I caught a few rides that day, then the next, ending with some guy who picked me up because he had just had a sermon in church about how "Wisdom lies not from the East, the South, or the West, but from the North" and my sign said "North". He took me to some truck stop in middle-of-no-where, North Carolina.
It was getting late at that point, so I figured I wasn't going to get anymore rides that day. There was a good field with some cover that I was planning to lay a tarp down in for the night, but I figured I fly a sign until it got too dark; I was starting to see a lot of Ohio license plates and had a really good feeling.
At first, I would make O-H-I-O with my arms whenever I saw an Ohio license plate, but the people either ignored me or shook their heads. I eventually put "Ohio" on the back of my sign and began alternating which side I was flying. A trucker finally stopped when I was just about ready to call it quits for the day, when I was flying the "North" side.
"How far north are you going? I'm going to Ohio."
"I'm going to Ohio," I indicated the other side of my sign.
I rode through with him all the way to Jacksonville, Ohio. It was already night at that point, but I felt like I was home. I walked up a hill beside HW-50/32, laid out my tarp, and went to sleep.
The next morning, I was on my feet again. I wanted to make it home as soon as possible. Before long though, I looked up and suddenly noticed bad storm clouds and that the weather was about to change quick. Being so close to home, I called my grandma to see if she could come get me. Luckily, she was picking up my cousin in Wellston that day. I didn't have time to make it back to Jackson to wait around, so took refugee under the overhang of a church beside the highway until I got picked up.
From there, we went to get my cousin, then went back home. I got dropped off at the library, then contacted one of my friends and went over to his house for the night, which we spent on acid. The drugs amplified the sensation of being out of sync with normal life - even my normal life - after being on the road, and it became apparent I'd need an adjustment period to re-normalize.
(next chapter)
I have to admit my memory gets hazy right here because the journey happened so fast, but at some point I was picked up by a woman named Sam, who gave me a ride back to Union, South Carolina. The ride offer was to Spartanburg, but I wanted to see if I could see Dale again on my way home. Sam, familiar with hitchhikers, Rainbow, and a Ren Fair participant herself, was more than happy to help.
She dropped me off at the McDonald's in Union, but gave me her number in case I couldn't find Dale. I had forgotten how big of a place Union was, and it took quite awhile to get to the end of town that had the road to go out to Dale's, so the sun was already going down at that point and I was feeling rushed to find where Dale lived, or set up camp. I couldn't remember exactly which roads to go down, and the number I had for him in my phone wasn't going through. It didn't matter - as I found out latter the next day, I'd saved the wrong number anyway. I ended up just setting up camp in the woods not far from where Dale and I met.
The next morning, I tried again to find a way to reach Dale, but was unable. In the end, I hiked back to the McDonald's and called Sam, who came and got me and took me to Spartanburg. She took me out to eat a late breakfast before dropping me back off on the interstate.
It didn't take long from there to catch a ride out of Spartanburg, but then things get hazy again. At some point, I caught a ride with two guys who worked on cell phone towers. They dropped me off at a truck stop in Charlotte, North Carolina and told me they had a friend who would be passing through the next day who was going all the way to Ohio. I tried to contact them about their friend while eating at Subway at the truck stop, but their friend didn't seem completely reliable, so I resolved that I would set up camp that night, then hitch out as usual the next morning.
There were already a group of home bums spanging one of the intersections near the truck stop. It seemed like they were having trouble, so I offered the rest of my sub and asked directions to get me set straight, as the intersections between interstates was a little confusing.
I walked down to right by where I'd be hitching out on I-77 and, with the sun setting, hid myself in the cover of trees beside the interstate. There wasn't much depth, and I didn't feel like I would really be hiding with my tent up, so I hopped a fence to get in deeper, setting up camp sandwiched between the interstate and some industrial building.
Once again, my ride out came early in the morning. Mostly jumps of only 2-3 exits up, I caught a few rides that day, then the next, ending with some guy who picked me up because he had just had a sermon in church about how "Wisdom lies not from the East, the South, or the West, but from the North" and my sign said "North". He took me to some truck stop in middle-of-no-where, North Carolina.
It was getting late at that point, so I figured I wasn't going to get anymore rides that day. There was a good field with some cover that I was planning to lay a tarp down in for the night, but I figured I fly a sign until it got too dark; I was starting to see a lot of Ohio license plates and had a really good feeling.
At first, I would make O-H-I-O with my arms whenever I saw an Ohio license plate, but the people either ignored me or shook their heads. I eventually put "Ohio" on the back of my sign and began alternating which side I was flying. A trucker finally stopped when I was just about ready to call it quits for the day, when I was flying the "North" side.
"How far north are you going? I'm going to Ohio."
"I'm going to Ohio," I indicated the other side of my sign.
I rode through with him all the way to Jacksonville, Ohio. It was already night at that point, but I felt like I was home. I walked up a hill beside HW-50/32, laid out my tarp, and went to sleep.
The next morning, I was on my feet again. I wanted to make it home as soon as possible. Before long though, I looked up and suddenly noticed bad storm clouds and that the weather was about to change quick. Being so close to home, I called my grandma to see if she could come get me. Luckily, she was picking up my cousin in Wellston that day. I didn't have time to make it back to Jackson to wait around, so took refugee under the overhang of a church beside the highway until I got picked up.
From there, we went to get my cousin, then went back home. I got dropped off at the library, then contacted one of my friends and went over to his house for the night, which we spent on acid. The drugs amplified the sensation of being out of sync with normal life - even my normal life - after being on the road, and it became apparent I'd need an adjustment period to re-normalize.
(next chapter)
Saturday, September 5, 2015
What A Ride: As Winter Approached
(previous chapter)
At first, I loved having so much acid around. I wasn't always on it, but it was always on me, so the option was always there. I was living life how I wanted to at the time, high and in the woods.
But it wasn't sustainable.
I often needed help from friends and family to keep myself fed. When I did have money, the food I bought was mostly dry and ready to eat from the packaging; lots of peanut butter, granola, and pop tarts. My diet wasn't healthy at all, and barely kept me full.
As the weather got colder and wetter, I began relying on friends and family more for shelter, too, making me feel like a useless burden at times. Whenever I needed to shower, shave, wash clothes, or even prepare some of my meals, I needed to find a house I was allowed to do those things in.
I fell into a depression, at which point I stopped being able to hold onto acid without doing it. Between my own acid, and the acid of the friend I was effectively living with, I started to trip at least three times a week, though most weeks that number was more like five or six times. That went on for a few months as the weather got colder and colder.
I didn't sleep much during that period. Almost every night was a party that I attended for the sake of having somewhere to be for the night. I'd end up on acid, go all night, then run on coffee the next morning because I couldn't sleep once the sun was up. The triple-loaded cocktail of THC, LSD, and caffeine kept me functioning, but left me stressed and mentally exhausted.
It was only a matter of time before I started to experience health issues. Everything from trench foot to dental problems tore at my body, while the lower-left area of my stomach region would sometimes spaz out and get hard for a reason I still don't know the origin of. Maybe it was my diet. Maybe it was the acid. Maybe it was both. I began to lose faith in my life and accept that I would probably die young, if I even made it through winter. Something had to change. I had to leave the situation I had trapped myself in, but I was also afraid of leaving. That would mean facing the unknown far from home when my body felt like it was falling apart. But still, I knew I had to go.
My family is pretty big on Ohio State, so with the run they were having I decided to stay around long enough to watch them win the first ever College Football Playoff. Then, I set out for my first Rainbow gathering in Ocala.
(next chapter)
At first, I loved having so much acid around. I wasn't always on it, but it was always on me, so the option was always there. I was living life how I wanted to at the time, high and in the woods.
But it wasn't sustainable.
I often needed help from friends and family to keep myself fed. When I did have money, the food I bought was mostly dry and ready to eat from the packaging; lots of peanut butter, granola, and pop tarts. My diet wasn't healthy at all, and barely kept me full.
As the weather got colder and wetter, I began relying on friends and family more for shelter, too, making me feel like a useless burden at times. Whenever I needed to shower, shave, wash clothes, or even prepare some of my meals, I needed to find a house I was allowed to do those things in.
I fell into a depression, at which point I stopped being able to hold onto acid without doing it. Between my own acid, and the acid of the friend I was effectively living with, I started to trip at least three times a week, though most weeks that number was more like five or six times. That went on for a few months as the weather got colder and colder.
I didn't sleep much during that period. Almost every night was a party that I attended for the sake of having somewhere to be for the night. I'd end up on acid, go all night, then run on coffee the next morning because I couldn't sleep once the sun was up. The triple-loaded cocktail of THC, LSD, and caffeine kept me functioning, but left me stressed and mentally exhausted.
It was only a matter of time before I started to experience health issues. Everything from trench foot to dental problems tore at my body, while the lower-left area of my stomach region would sometimes spaz out and get hard for a reason I still don't know the origin of. Maybe it was my diet. Maybe it was the acid. Maybe it was both. I began to lose faith in my life and accept that I would probably die young, if I even made it through winter. Something had to change. I had to leave the situation I had trapped myself in, but I was also afraid of leaving. That would mean facing the unknown far from home when my body felt like it was falling apart. But still, I knew I had to go.
My family is pretty big on Ohio State, so with the run they were having I decided to stay around long enough to watch them win the first ever College Football Playoff. Then, I set out for my first Rainbow gathering in Ocala.
(next chapter)
Thursday, September 3, 2015
What A Ride: Into the Woods
(previous chapter)
I was still flipping burgers when I first moved into the woods. Instead of paying for rent, I bought gear and weed. It was so serene hiking into the woods at the end of the day, setting up camp, then hotboxing the tent before going to sleep.
Most nights I would stay in a cave about a half-hour's hike behind the nature center of the local college. I had attended a party at the cave earlier in the winter and decided it'd be a great shelter to live. My favorite part about the place was watching the thunderstorms from the cave, which was truly magical. Other nights I'd stay on a trail closer to town, just off the bike path. If I had to close or work late, some friends might let me stay at their house afterwords.
Now that I had work and an even less stable living situation than before, I decided to leave the editorial staff of The Oddville Press. I kept operating The Adventurous Pen for awhile, but I needed something to really stand out to promote myself as a writer - my own niche. I was always talking about psychedelics. Being introduced to LSD at the age of 13 left me open to study the chemicals with great passion from that early of an age. By this point in my story, I was 20 and had quite the knowledge of psychedelics. Even in everyday conversation, I was spouting the gospel of psychedelics, defusing myths, stating random facts, and generally raising interest and awareness of the magic chemicals. I felt like doing so was my calling in life. Even my poetry in Through Kaleidoscopes had been based on the psychedelic experience. It only felt right that I launch a website to help spread that information, thus Tea With the Captain was born.
At this point, I should probably detract a little to tell you how I got the name Captain Chucke. Having just graduated high school - just age 18 - I was at Wisteria Summer Solstice Festival 2012. One of my uncles makes mead, and he gets the honey off his neighbor that raises bees. I brought two bottles of this mead to share with people at the festival and get their feedback on it. There was a theater troupe called the Pirates of the C.U.C. Constantine that hold a 21+ only party-ritual called "Tortuga" at the summer solstice festival each year on the Friday of the event. The festival is now only a Thursday through Sunday event, but in 2012 it was a full week. I met the pirates earlier in the week at their 21+ only knot tying workshop. I walked in and the first words from my lips were, "Pirates, drink my uncle's mead."
They never questioned my age, so I never actually lied. They accepted the drink, then returned the favor by blessing me with "hilarious" lemonade - rum with lemonade powder. From that point on, the pirates and I became friends. When Tortuga rolled around, I asked them if I could borrow some pirate garb for the party and if they needed any help carrying things down to set up. They loaned me a pirate hat and had me carry a ship wheel and some thick rope, effectively sneaking myself into the party like I'm supposed to be there. I hung out in the back away from the fire at first, drinking lemonade to catch a buzz while trying to decide if I should stay hidden in the shadows, or just act like I'm supposed to be there. The decision was made for me. One of the pirates, Dirty Alice, came up to me and asked if I would do a big pirate favor; they wanted me to declare myself "Captain Chucke".
The Captain is an integral part of the Tortuga ritual. Whomever gets the title must undergo the "mutiny" game, Drink Or Drown, where the Captain is "tied" to the ship wheel I carried down with the rope I carried down (doesn't sound planed at all), before being walked around the fire a few times, then made to, essentially, beerbong some hilarious lemonade. I drank and didn't drown, thus earning me the title Captain Chucke.
At first, it was just a name close friends knew me by - a fun name with a cool story behind it. Over time, I put together my own pirate outfit to wear to parties, festivals, or even just around town when I felt like being a little odd for the fun of it. Soon, Captain Chucke became a common nickname that I'd introduce myself as. Since I was already this character, I decided to run with it as my psychonaut name when I started Tea With the Captain, thinking that an interesting character would make more people pay attention.
I left my job flipping burgers during a particularly stressful shift where the people in the back couldn't do their jobs right because they were still new, and the people in the front kept losing the sandwiches I'd make. I should have just stuck through it, but I was frustrated and left instead. From that point, Tea With the Captain became my life. I wrote articles and did videos on psychedelics, festivals, and other related things, then spent the rest of my time promoting and link building. I made it my gimmick to try to appear crazy, done up in weird costumes to mock the idea that psychedelics make you crazy.
Talking about how great psychedelics are naturally led to helping people find them, which since I no longer had a job became the deal I would make to keep myself high and fed. LSD and other psychedelics were slowly becoming more prevalent and popular in the area as people's fears from myths became alleviated and more information spread on the benefits of psychedelics and how to ID the chemical you're taking came out. With more people doing psychedelics, more people wanted to try the chemicals for themselves. I was watching, online and in the real world, the progression of a new psychedelic dawn. Zane Kesey had his father's bus, Further, out spreading family love. I got dosed by the Pranksters at the Gathering of Juggalos a couple weeks before the bus landed at Smoke Rise Ranch, at which point LSD gained more abundance and staying power than I had previously seen in my area. The renewed popularity only helped ensure it stick around.
(next chapter)
I was still flipping burgers when I first moved into the woods. Instead of paying for rent, I bought gear and weed. It was so serene hiking into the woods at the end of the day, setting up camp, then hotboxing the tent before going to sleep.
Most nights I would stay in a cave about a half-hour's hike behind the nature center of the local college. I had attended a party at the cave earlier in the winter and decided it'd be a great shelter to live. My favorite part about the place was watching the thunderstorms from the cave, which was truly magical. Other nights I'd stay on a trail closer to town, just off the bike path. If I had to close or work late, some friends might let me stay at their house afterwords.
Now that I had work and an even less stable living situation than before, I decided to leave the editorial staff of The Oddville Press. I kept operating The Adventurous Pen for awhile, but I needed something to really stand out to promote myself as a writer - my own niche. I was always talking about psychedelics. Being introduced to LSD at the age of 13 left me open to study the chemicals with great passion from that early of an age. By this point in my story, I was 20 and had quite the knowledge of psychedelics. Even in everyday conversation, I was spouting the gospel of psychedelics, defusing myths, stating random facts, and generally raising interest and awareness of the magic chemicals. I felt like doing so was my calling in life. Even my poetry in Through Kaleidoscopes had been based on the psychedelic experience. It only felt right that I launch a website to help spread that information, thus Tea With the Captain was born.
At this point, I should probably detract a little to tell you how I got the name Captain Chucke. Having just graduated high school - just age 18 - I was at Wisteria Summer Solstice Festival 2012. One of my uncles makes mead, and he gets the honey off his neighbor that raises bees. I brought two bottles of this mead to share with people at the festival and get their feedback on it. There was a theater troupe called the Pirates of the C.U.C. Constantine that hold a 21+ only party-ritual called "Tortuga" at the summer solstice festival each year on the Friday of the event. The festival is now only a Thursday through Sunday event, but in 2012 it was a full week. I met the pirates earlier in the week at their 21+ only knot tying workshop. I walked in and the first words from my lips were, "Pirates, drink my uncle's mead."
They never questioned my age, so I never actually lied. They accepted the drink, then returned the favor by blessing me with "hilarious" lemonade - rum with lemonade powder. From that point on, the pirates and I became friends. When Tortuga rolled around, I asked them if I could borrow some pirate garb for the party and if they needed any help carrying things down to set up. They loaned me a pirate hat and had me carry a ship wheel and some thick rope, effectively sneaking myself into the party like I'm supposed to be there. I hung out in the back away from the fire at first, drinking lemonade to catch a buzz while trying to decide if I should stay hidden in the shadows, or just act like I'm supposed to be there. The decision was made for me. One of the pirates, Dirty Alice, came up to me and asked if I would do a big pirate favor; they wanted me to declare myself "Captain Chucke".
The Captain is an integral part of the Tortuga ritual. Whomever gets the title must undergo the "mutiny" game, Drink Or Drown, where the Captain is "tied" to the ship wheel I carried down with the rope I carried down (doesn't sound planed at all), before being walked around the fire a few times, then made to, essentially, beerbong some hilarious lemonade. I drank and didn't drown, thus earning me the title Captain Chucke.
At first, it was just a name close friends knew me by - a fun name with a cool story behind it. Over time, I put together my own pirate outfit to wear to parties, festivals, or even just around town when I felt like being a little odd for the fun of it. Soon, Captain Chucke became a common nickname that I'd introduce myself as. Since I was already this character, I decided to run with it as my psychonaut name when I started Tea With the Captain, thinking that an interesting character would make more people pay attention.
I left my job flipping burgers during a particularly stressful shift where the people in the back couldn't do their jobs right because they were still new, and the people in the front kept losing the sandwiches I'd make. I should have just stuck through it, but I was frustrated and left instead. From that point, Tea With the Captain became my life. I wrote articles and did videos on psychedelics, festivals, and other related things, then spent the rest of my time promoting and link building. I made it my gimmick to try to appear crazy, done up in weird costumes to mock the idea that psychedelics make you crazy.
Talking about how great psychedelics are naturally led to helping people find them, which since I no longer had a job became the deal I would make to keep myself high and fed. LSD and other psychedelics were slowly becoming more prevalent and popular in the area as people's fears from myths became alleviated and more information spread on the benefits of psychedelics and how to ID the chemical you're taking came out. With more people doing psychedelics, more people wanted to try the chemicals for themselves. I was watching, online and in the real world, the progression of a new psychedelic dawn. Zane Kesey had his father's bus, Further, out spreading family love. I got dosed by the Pranksters at the Gathering of Juggalos a couple weeks before the bus landed at Smoke Rise Ranch, at which point LSD gained more abundance and staying power than I had previously seen in my area. The renewed popularity only helped ensure it stick around.
(next chapter)
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
What A Ride: Before the Woods
(previous chapter)
When I got back to Ohio I learned that, after a month of nothing on my schedule, I missed some work while I was away and lost my job.
The Athens-area of Ohio is the poorest in the state, with the few job prospects. I applied to everywhere I could, I checked in frequently, I did everything that would normally make landing a job easy. There's just so many people fighting over so few jobs.
I kept myself occupied by writing. I began work on my first volume of poetry, Through Kaleidoscopes. I also started to learn more about putting myself out there as a writer by joining the forum website, www.writersbeat.com. This website gave me the ability to network with other starting and independent writers and learn how they participated in the literary industry. It also gave me a place to have my work critiqued and improved. Some of the poems that made it into Through Kaleidoscopes had been critiqued and altered after being posted to Writer's Beat.
The forums also got me on the editorial staff of The Oddville Press for Volume II, Issue II when I responded to an ad in the website's Classifieds section, giving me insight into and experience in the other side of the publishing door. I took that experience into my own project, The Adventurous Pen. Through Kaleidoscopes finally came out shortly after The Adventurous Pen's launch. I was also teaching chess to local kids at the library.
While all this was going on, I was still living at my mom's, with my stepfather, two little brothers, and an infestation of bed bugs. All of a sudden, bed bugs were everywhere in town, and our house was no exception. It was driving everyone crazy with stress as we all became alert to every little motion out of the corner of our eyes, or the feeling of something against our skin, only to lay awake at night as the bugs crawled all over, feasting in an unstoppable manner, while we wished only for a peaceful rest. Already lacking money, many funds were spent trying to eradicate the pests, unsuccessfully.
As spring began to poke its head, my mom was able to get me a job flipping burgers where she and my stepfather worked. Shortly after I began working, my mom and stepfather moved to escape the bugs. I stayed behind in the house as a squatter for another week or two, before moving into a friend's house and helping him pay rent for the next month.
I love festivals. I love the energy and the love at festivals. It rejuvenates me and gives me hope for humanity. I've been volunteering at the festivals at Wisteria Event Site since I was 16. Festivals are a big part of my life. That's why, when I had to decide on paying for new camping gear that I needed, or rent, I chose the camping gear. I bought a High Sierra 90L backpack, which is still my pack after everything it's gone through with me. One of my friends loaned me a tent, as mine was in no condition for long-term living like I was about to do anymore. I figured out how to sort through what I had left and put it in my pack. What I didn't need got tossed away and my pack became all my worldly possessions, my life on my back.
I moved into the woods.
(continue reading)
When I got back to Ohio I learned that, after a month of nothing on my schedule, I missed some work while I was away and lost my job.
The Athens-area of Ohio is the poorest in the state, with the few job prospects. I applied to everywhere I could, I checked in frequently, I did everything that would normally make landing a job easy. There's just so many people fighting over so few jobs.
I kept myself occupied by writing. I began work on my first volume of poetry, Through Kaleidoscopes. I also started to learn more about putting myself out there as a writer by joining the forum website, www.writersbeat.com. This website gave me the ability to network with other starting and independent writers and learn how they participated in the literary industry. It also gave me a place to have my work critiqued and improved. Some of the poems that made it into Through Kaleidoscopes had been critiqued and altered after being posted to Writer's Beat.
The forums also got me on the editorial staff of The Oddville Press for Volume II, Issue II when I responded to an ad in the website's Classifieds section, giving me insight into and experience in the other side of the publishing door. I took that experience into my own project, The Adventurous Pen. Through Kaleidoscopes finally came out shortly after The Adventurous Pen's launch. I was also teaching chess to local kids at the library.
While all this was going on, I was still living at my mom's, with my stepfather, two little brothers, and an infestation of bed bugs. All of a sudden, bed bugs were everywhere in town, and our house was no exception. It was driving everyone crazy with stress as we all became alert to every little motion out of the corner of our eyes, or the feeling of something against our skin, only to lay awake at night as the bugs crawled all over, feasting in an unstoppable manner, while we wished only for a peaceful rest. Already lacking money, many funds were spent trying to eradicate the pests, unsuccessfully.
As spring began to poke its head, my mom was able to get me a job flipping burgers where she and my stepfather worked. Shortly after I began working, my mom and stepfather moved to escape the bugs. I stayed behind in the house as a squatter for another week or two, before moving into a friend's house and helping him pay rent for the next month.
I love festivals. I love the energy and the love at festivals. It rejuvenates me and gives me hope for humanity. I've been volunteering at the festivals at Wisteria Event Site since I was 16. Festivals are a big part of my life. That's why, when I had to decide on paying for new camping gear that I needed, or rent, I chose the camping gear. I bought a High Sierra 90L backpack, which is still my pack after everything it's gone through with me. One of my friends loaned me a tent, as mine was in no condition for long-term living like I was about to do anymore. I figured out how to sort through what I had left and put it in my pack. What I didn't need got tossed away and my pack became all my worldly possessions, my life on my back.
I moved into the woods.
(continue reading)
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