Phantasmagoria

I used to be afraid of headlights. After dark, when another car is creeping up in the rear-view, its easy to imagine that every single car (apart from your own) belongs to a cop. I was like a cockroach: every flicker of any nearby light, and I was out of there like greased lightning. I imagined myself hunted, and there was no peace or respite when any light was about, as myriad nocturnal eyes followed me and my fiance` around every corner, in and throughout the darkest alleyways and parking lots of Daytona.

These eyes were mostly imaginary. I see that clearly now. We used to joke when we’d go shoot up or smoke in the park that the cops were in the trees. One of us would laugh and say this, and the other would respond, “no, the cops are the trees”. As I delved further and faster into the underworld of junkie life, this joke became less and less amusing. When you’re up for several days end-to-end on a bender, you tend to misconstrue reality. I’ve seen fifty-foot tall basket ball players swaggering and looming overhead where streetlights should have been, black mass demon worship in parking lots, elves in the road, and other bizarre apparitions, and I can tell you I believed every minute of it. Sleep deprivation, stimulants, and malnourishment can do that sort of thing.

I’m not sure how I never got arrested or killed for that matter, but I’m glad to be able to just cruise down the street at night without being afraid of cops or other phantasmal pursuers anymore. It’s a blessing, one of many simple things that most people take for granted. For those of you who are still lost between the worlds, find a light and go ever toward it. And for those of you teetering, don’t look back. -CM