The only pictures I have are in my head.
I was hanging out at Jax Beach.I remember where I was on my birthday, because I had the thought, more than once; 25 is a quarter of a century. And like only the young can do; I believed that to be a long time.
I was thin, with long, wavy hair. I was on a spree of sorts. T was the drug of the day.
I had an old car, I can’t remember what kind it was. I do remember that I had to carry duct tape to keep it running.
I drifted amongst friends. One being Judy, who lived at the beach, and with whom I was co-dependent. She was wild and had married a successful builder. The other was Danny, who, worked for my father, and I was also co-dependent with. I was mesmerized by them both. Today I know they were not really friends. I don’t believe any of us were capable, back then.
My being was a cloud. It had no form.
I can still see feel the sunshine; see all the smiles and recollect dreams.
My feet never felt traction.
The summer, of when I was 22, and living in A.B. North Carolina was behind me. The summer of 26, and living in Wyoming was ahead.
What a long strange trip it was.
I was too stupid to lie, and to naive to realize that everyone else was.
The episodes melted like ice cream cones on a Sunday afternoon.
I slipped and slid from one day to the next.
That was a long time ago. Or was it?