The Space Between

the space between
AWW ~ 4/25/12
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My teenage years were spaced.

At 13 I fell in love and became romantically involved for the first time. I lost my virginity, but I don't recall the "first time."

At 14 I ran from the police for the first time. I was on foot; I'd thrown dirt clogs at a passing car as I'd hid on the side of the road at 2:00 AM. I outsmarted the police as I lay in the field of tall grass while the police were shining flashlights. I held my breath until they were gone.

At 14 or 15 I drank my first alcohol. I don't recall the first drink but I imagine it was Boones Farm wine. I could buy beer and wine in the local beverage store; the old man never did card me.

At 15 I got high on pot for the first time. It was my third or fourth time smoking pot; I hadn't felt its effects the first times I'd tried it. Wendy was driving her car; I think it was a Gremlin. I sat in the front passenger seat. As Wendy crested the large paved hill in the wealthy Shuford Devlopment with its giant houses and long driveways, I felt the high. It was like I crested with the Gremlin on that giant paved hill. In the middle of our side of the road, a patch of concrete became alive...like it was rising out of the dark pavement. My eyes got big and butterflies flew in my tummy. Wendy laughed. Wendy was 17 and I dated her brother Dale, who was around 19. Dale thought folks who smoked pot were freaks so Wendy made me promise to not tell Dale. Dale drank a lot and was the boyfriend who used to hit me.

At 15 and 16 I got high on chemicals and speed for the first time - MDA, LSD, mescalin, jimson weed, window pane, black beauties, gummy T, hashish, and I don't recall what else. I tripped a lot in a one-year period. I can't recall my first trip. I can recall some of the trips, especially the jimson weed. The jimson weed hallucinations are still vivid in my mind.

All my trips were good, except for the jimson weed and then, near the end before I quit drugs...near the end the trips began to turn bad.

But when the trips were good...they were oh so good.
When the trips were good, I could taste and touch the space between life and eternity.
The entire earth - every crevice, every molecule, every atom, every tiny space and portal - every thing was filled with purpose, with substance, with love.
When the trips were good the spaces between whatever consist in spaces between knew no emptiness, except within the echos; there was space between the echos.
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