Maybe I Left Something Out

I wrote something for yesterday, but it was so boring (even to me) that I couldn't even edit it and give it any worth.

There was possibly another activity going on besides me standing before the Moody Blues poster reading the lyrics of some of their songs. I was standing in front of the Moody Blues poster because I was at a house I'd never been inside of before. I was at this house in order to smoke a joint with the people who lived there, and the woman who lived in the same house I did. This happened forty years ago, but not necessarily forty years ago today.

I had some sort of relationship with this woman and she with me that neither of us appeared to understand. We slept in the same room most of the time, and made love with other people at the same time in that room, but although we got nakid together and tried to have physical sex together, it never worked out. We didn't excite each other in that way.

Since we didn't have a physical relationship and we made love with other people without any apparent problems there was no real reason for us to be jealous of one another, but we kind of were jealous, but maybe that's not the best term to describe what happened between us. It didn't last forever. Later, she became rather contemptuous of me and soon enow she appeared to deliberately avoid my presence.

I can't really know what my bottom-line motives for insisting on going over to those college boy's shared house to get high or in order somehow to protect Marion. By that I mean to say that I knew that my going over there to their house for any reason meant that if anything happened to Marion, I'd know where she was that night. She was notorious for having sex with several or more men one after the other.

She took the "free love" aspect of being a hippie very seriously. I never entertained the thought she was doing it for money. Most of the college kids she was boffing didn't have any money to pay her. Contrarily, she was doing what prostitutes do, and it wasn't a secret. She seemed sort of like the women that Jack The Ripper types would murder for the good of the world. A high number of serial murderers appear to choose mostly prostitutes and so-called "loose women" for their victims.

That might have been in the back of my mind as the real reason I sort of forced the guys into inviting me to go with them when they came by to pick up Marion, by insisting that they get me high or I'd put the kibosh on their romantic plans.

Anyway, when we did get to the house where they lived, and we all went inside, and they hurriedly brought out their stash and started passing joints, I knew it was to get me out of their way as soon as possible. I toked enough off of the several joints that were being passed simultaneously to get what I was gonna get from whatever we were smoking, and to indicate that and to move toward the door to leave, I segued into the dining room behind the living room where everybody was sitting.

The dining room was not completely walled off from the living room. The two rooms were adjoined by a Spanish arch in such a way that the rooms were open one to the other. The poster was in a small alcove in the wall and lit by a black light so that the lyrics really stood out. I may have only pretended to read them while I listened for what was going on in the other room.

This is how my attention may have gotten split in the first place. I certainly didn't plan to have a life-changing vision in that instant. As far as I was concerned I was only in that room as a station I attended to use as an excuse to move directly from standing in front of the poster to the front door, and could say I was leaving on my actual way out, and be gone before they could even say "Good night."

That did eventually happen. When the vision was over I had forgotten why I was there, much less concerned about getting high or protecting Marion for any reason at all. I was desperate to find a writing implement and something to write down what happened on. They ignored me, naturally, the party had begun and not everybody was fully clothed. I don't think they even noticed I'd gone. No blame.