When I was 25


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?


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