Conversation with some guy.

Have you ever killed anyone.
****, man we're going there already.
Well have you.
Yeah.
Who.
Charlie; in the war, had to **** him with my camera.
Oh, you were a war photographer.
Photographer, journalist, I've been a lot of things.
Are you part of the pine tree communist propaganda team.
Woe man, slow down.
Did you or did you not, meet with the monk of monkies in Massachusetts.
Hey man, your questions are a little too high caliber for my surf board.
I'm just trying to break some new ground here...well, what do you like to do.
Oh you know the casual acid flashbacks, Godzilla showings at the theater, um hanging out with some Samurai Chicks ya know, stuff like that.
Have you ever been to the mountains Mr._ ?
Well there was this one time when I was at this festival in Colorado, and this guy said he was going to hitchhike up to Woody Creek and he asked if any body wanted to join him, so I tagged along, he said his name was Chuck I think, yeah Chuck Manson, he went on about wanting to **** somebody but I didn't really think about it, he did play some music which was really good, it was very soulful.
(A heavy sigh)Can you recall where you were a few hours ago.
I was here.
What do mean you were here.
I've always been here, constructing this reality that you're sitting in right now.
(End Tape)
Goodbye.



Garrett Johnson.

The roof of Alcatraz.

Embodying the psychedelic lust of youth.
We stealthed our way into the ancient cinder block.
Old and moldy.
Cold.
We made our way to the top.
A cold breeze off the bay sea.
Pushing along her hair.
We sat in that cold night air.
Just watching.



Garrett Johnson.

Ginsberg Goggles.

Time that was Nice- Drive to Aberdeen, wander around, Look around, Run off from the group with you into the woods while it's raining, cause it's always raining.
Time that was pretty nice- Buy a drug dealer, erode a line into my arm, just to feel something, Cry some dust, then smoke it.
Time that was kind of wasted- Build a lonesome town, Ricky nelson can be mayor, burn scenery into my back using movie ink that was drained out of a camera that a shadow used.
Time that wasn't wasted at all- Staring at your Spider-Man poster, just to turn and see you kiss me.
Time that was enjoyed wasted but wasn't really wasted- writing this.



Garrett Johnson.

Why should I care.

It's another light house.
It's another light house.
One to **** your alliance.
On the front door.
Is the next level of violence.
The next terror of silence turn around.
Your beautiful with aliveness.
Quiet and alone tonight.
Nothing else to be.
Nothing else to see or hear.
There it was.
There it went.
Gone.
I don't.



Garrett Johnson.

Scouting Minerals with some pirates.

A while ago- Stopped and thought, drank some tea.
A little while ago- Watched American ******, read Fear and loathing in Las Vegas while watching the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas while on Lsd.
Some time ago- slept in, Slept with someone, listened to "Endless, Nameless" on repeat for four straight hours.
Not too long ago- HaD a DrEaM tHaT i CaN't ReMeMbEr, had an acoustic nightmare, melted the atmosphere of my brain with *****, and had a cancer attack.
A light year ago- Watched Live Leak while eating smores, more and more, more or less, she was *******, which was cool and all but I got a little scared.
A minute ago- typed the last line which isn't this line but is supposed to be, I guess.


Garrett Johnson.

Sad boy Eric.

Cloaked in sap.
Maple scent of her lips.
Fall asleep.
A cretaceous machine.
Spiral down into the unforgettable.
A nostalgic depression.
Felt before.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Forever float in the entertaining undesirable.
While holding hands.



Garrett Johnson.

A complete unknown.

Going down 120th in one of the classics.
Passing a ******* barrel on this slighted Sunday afternoon.
With a tub of acid heating up on the dash.
Dylan's "Like a rolling Stone" playing loud and Ruthless.
A mind filled with a heavy buzz.
No lying.
No harm or ill flying around.
Only the road.
Defying all the unknown that's abound.


Garrett Johnson.