Mercury Trismagistus
Active Member
I used to think it was the waiting. Back in the day we used to spend uncounted hours out in Cliff Park waiting for it to come by. This was in the period between the end of the Sixties and the Laughing Summer, with it's new age of great festivals. We thought of ourselves as "Heads" in those days. Hippies were something that had, except for a hardcore band of Deadheads, died out in the aftermath of Altamont and the Manson Family Killings. It had gone pretty Helter Skelter for sure. And Real Horrorshow at the end. Yet Charlie had not been that far off in his assessment of the future. Had he really been sent here to complete our training or was he just another refugee from the Love Generation?
The Counselor shivered. He knew he needed to cut down on the stimulants. And the backward masking in the damn Post-Industrial music wasn't helping either. Bad Craziness. He looked over at the joint of Gorilla Glue trying to gauge it. It was all a balancing act with the edibles, he thought with a grin. No, it wasn't the waiting. He groked that now. It was the driving. He put his finger on the trigger of the Supercharger and let her rip.
The Counselor shivered. He knew he needed to cut down on the stimulants. And the backward masking in the damn Post-Industrial music wasn't helping either. Bad Craziness. He looked over at the joint of Gorilla Glue trying to gauge it. It was all a balancing act with the edibles, he thought with a grin. No, it wasn't the waiting. He groked that now. It was the driving. He put his finger on the trigger of the Supercharger and let her rip.
