The man who saw tomorrow part 7

We walked together until we found a spot on the edge of the lawn;we stood around and chatted about various things as the band began to play. After a few tunes I began to get the urge to move around the entire complex to "see" the sights. "I will see you guys later" and then I reminded them that I will probably go to the van after the show if we are separated. The urge to see more and to find something, anything...ton fill the void still haunted me: was I right to still follow my heart?

AS I began to explore the grounds the acid began to work its "magic"; the music and its message became even more profound. The white rabbit prop used by the band onstage, representing the "myth" of the seeing world, the "matrix" if you will that captures the senses of everyman, sung succinctly in the song "Working Man", was especially poignant: down the rabbit hole went Alice following that rascally rabbit...

As I saw this unfold before my eyes I felt that all of this was being lost on many in the crowd; the music and the images onstage were playful images at best diversions at their worst instead of reinforcing images used to portray a message to the audience. I felt that this separation between artist and observer was in part a result of the structure itself; the event, the venue too were part of this feeling of disconnect, or "Satan" if you will. Well the songs kept coming; some giving me a reason to dance others to find a spot to sit and observe myself in relation to the world at play. This interplay of emotions, ideas and actions continued throughout the show. I had much on my mind and thankfully was able to loose myself during their brilliant performance. And as the nighttime fog descended upon the Amphitheater the band made its climactic conclusion to the utter delight of the fans. I had found this finale alongside a nicely manicured tree on the edge of the lawn. "What a show" I yelled, as they finished, clapping in unison with the thousands who shared my appreciation at this unforgettable performance.

Well knowing it was impossible to find Jorge and Dave after the show, I headed out towards the many exits that lead to the parking lot. Having spent my youth attending weekly home game at RFK stadium in DC , it was very simple to trace my steps through the thousands of fans towards Jorge's van.
Though, when I arrived I found a unfamiliar face waiting with them at the bus. Jorge with his customary smile on his face greeted me and asked: "man, how was it for you?" To which I replied, "amazing". Dave stood smiling with the young guy who stood with a drink in his hand and was talking about "Rush".
I joined them, smiling, realizing that Dave had no real interest in the conversation circumstances had brought with this young guy; and as I entered Dave used this opportunity to let me take his place.

His conversation goes from Rush to Iraq; he proudly proclaims that he is going to Kuwait to help them out after Saddam. Dave stays away chatting with Jorge but looks over to see my face as they guys continues to mimic the mainstream propaganda used to justify the war. I just listened in amazement not letting on of my activist past nor of our collective contempt for the war and especially for those in power who had contrived this modern day killing field for geopolitical reasons. He and I were not many years apart in age but "ages" in our understanding of the real world.

Ironically he fulfilled my earlier perceptions from inside the theater: he was the "working man" and tragically did not know it!
I hid my sick smile and slowly walked away, thinking: it was all sound to him...
Jorge had taken my place as I made my way around the van; thankfully the conversation had changed as we then began to debate the merits of leaving because the "lot was thinning out." We exchange the type of "good byes" one usually does with a person who enters your life on such occasions; cordial though lacking in sincerity, similar to the type you experience at parties with someone very nice who you swear you will contact "real soon" but you understand that this was probably all you will ever want to see of that person...

On the ride back to town, I was a geyser of words and images gleaned from our time at Shoreline; triggered by the boy who we had just left in the lot. "Clueless" I laughed from the back of the van; both Dave and Jorge took turns smiling and laughing mostly at me from their front seats. "What could we say...he would not listen anyway..." I remember saying as the bus motored north on 101.

Art can change ones impression only if the one is RECEPTIVE!

We arrived back in San Francisco at 11:30-12am; I had even more on my mind after the night I had just experienced. And as I had done so many times before I took off walking, in search, on the streets of San Francisco. I crisscrossed the town walking through many of the neighborhoods I had discovered so well over the years. But this time I had the feeling that this was going to be one of my last journeys. As I passed from neighborhood to hood I saw many of the things I loved about my adopted town. one of those opportunities was for sex; unlike DC, San Francisco liked me, and usually when I was out in the city I had a choice to satisfy my angst or frustration with many encounters. Though as with the many previous chances I passed; my heart was what guides me and not just my penis. When I settle for sex and not love and companionship I usually receive none of the latter and inconsistent with the former. Though on a few occasions I did get lucky and found GREAT but fleeting sex!

But tonight I needed to be free of any material diversions, and on a journey that I was on that was what sex would be...a diversion. So I walked, sat, and thought about life and all I had seen in the weeks since that night at the space; trying to understand where life was about to take me; what I was about to do. I still had the feeling that there was more for me to "see".

The walk was providing me insight but also the opportunity to burn away the affect of the drugs. As my mind was being freed I craved the awareness and the insight that it had initially shown me. I felt that more awaited me that night; I knew that as I dared to venture forward more was to be awakened in me...

As I returned to Sanchez st. I still had an urge, as if the finale was at hand; I walked and climbed the dark stairs to the second floor flat. Dave and Jorge were still up talking and I decided to go back out and get some orange juice cuz I needed some Vitamin C. So I stepped outside and began to walk up 18Th street to a grocery store 2 blocks above Castro, seven blocks in all...
"Man can I use that juice", I thought as I walked into the store only to be repelled by its bright lights.

"ARGH!!"

I felt like the vampire Lestat in horror at the rise of the morning sun.
So as to not to continue in the store's "light-mare", I quickly exit for 18Th street and the darkness found on the walk back to the house, and a glass of water waiting there. Along the way I decided to snatch a copy of the Wall Street Journal and get a read of the business journal and its take on world affairs. It being a mouthpiece of fiance capital it provides needed information to an audience that demands as much "truth" the establishment will afford. So I decided to sit outside the house, underneath a large light that overhung the sidewalk. Here I was able to read at my convenience even at 4 am. To my surprise the front page contained a story that Olympia and York, the largest real estate company in the world was going bankrupt in building a new city of the river Thames, in London. This "crisis" instinctively spoke to me: if they went bankrupt then this portended grave things for our future...

Their debts were not to be repaid just refinanced through borrowing: debt upon debt!

"A crash was coming" I thought, knowing instinctively that this could not be sustained. Then I turned my head from the paper and looked up Sanchez and was presented with a vision: crisis leading to wars and then collapse was a result for our realm!
"Wow, I had been given a whopper of a vision from my god; also it meant that I had to put my full faith in me because who else was to believe in this reality, so I had too. Faith in me and what could be!

I was have been sober to this "reality" since that early June 1 morning; I have had to live "apocalypse" EVERYDAY since...imagine just imagine how my life has been.
So I slept maybe 4 hours got up and made my way to the workspace, found Adam Gerics and buried the hatchet(until 1996). It was the first step of me getting my house in order, allowing me to make my way to this time in history.

I returned home to DC by April of 1993 and began to build a community of change here inside Capital city. The shit I have had to put up with here has been so frustrating; many people especially the new "activist" are most frustrating because they are arrogant AND fucking clueless!!!!

But to be fair after you have seen the future, now the present, that can be said for EVERYONE!!!

My work has been termed the "phoenix project", and my art is practicing the "genesis effect". Both I have seen work successfully and in many cases for people who still do realize its affect.
I believe in building a new world today as I have done ever since that fateful morning. Do not waist your time "protesting" the acts of darkness that are increasing daily but create the post world now while you are able too. They cannot do anything without your acquiescence; the more who leave their influence the smaller the "crash" will be: conceivably it will just be Obama, Bush and the small groups they represent. The rest of us will be living and building our new world as WE desire it to be!

THE CHOICE IS YOURS!!