forgive spelling and grammatical errors
The summer of 2006 was relatively uneventful. Besides to the monotonous trips to the beach with the family the summer seemed to be passing me by without even a simple high five or pat on the back. One night in early August though, I took summer by the throat and shook the life out of it. At 9:40 PM one night, my friend Scott and I, armed with about 100 dollars and enough classic rock and roll music to last a lifetime, set out for Kiawa Island, SC, where my best friend and girl friend were both conveniently located. We estimated that it would be about a four-hour drive. Pulling onto the interstate, I said, “This is going to be legendary, a night to truly remember; something Jack Kerouac would write in one of his stories.” Now not only did this trip slightly justify my insanity, but it firmly established the fact that my mind is a scary place.
The first hour of the trip went by as I expected. Listening to the Beatles Abby Road, Scott would sit in his seat and dance and groove to the music. Though I never was a big Beatles fan, I always respect good music when I hear it, and began tapping my and feet on the floor and my fingers on the steering wheel, letting the music slowly take over my being. Once the CD ended, I put in one of my favorite albums-The Doors self titled debut album. As the CD was loading I thought to myself that the Beatles was just a warm up, now is when I let the music utterly and completely consume my existence. I suddenly wasn’t in control of my body. The music, the lyrics, the voice, those crazy Indian spirits that Jim Morrison always sings about; they were moving me, they were my brain giving orders to my limbs, telling them to simply let go of all obligation, to simply exist in utmost simplicity. If there was anytime that night at which I was closest to death, it was then. The world was at my fingertips. I thought, “I am going to change the world.” The world is a canvas and my brain the painter. My mind is a canvas and the world is the painter. It didn’t matter. Human beings came from the Earth; we must learn to coexist with nature and be each other’s palettes and painters. And just as Jim Morrison muttered the ending to the CD, my thoughts and feelings stemming from the CD ended as well.
Two hours later, I was somewhere between Columbia and Charleston and Scott was asleep. Listening to the Door’s Soft Parade, sleep was the farthest thing from my mind as I streaked down the interstate. The nighttime was devoid of life, my vision shrouded in darkness, the only light being that of trucks. Everything looked the same; the trees, the trucks, and the road, that looked like it was the unraveled tongue of some savage beast unknown to mankind. Off in the distance, though, I saw promise. I saw the fruition of the dreams of mankind. I saw light. Blazing light. It appeared to be some shining oasis in the middle of the dark desert. As I got closer, I realized that it was a factory. Now not only was it a shining oasis, but it was a beacon of industrial maturity. The sky was littered with stars and the moon shone brightly. A truly beautiful image-a factory blazing with light with a backdrop of cosmic proportions. A haunting juxtaposition. Who should I defy: my creator or my kind? Aren’t they one in the same? Just as we came from something, something will come from us. We as humans are constantly evolving. Besides, this factory and the stars and moon aren’t all that different. Just as mankind is inexorably ensnared in a web of coexistence with nature, so are mankind’s creations. We have built our abodes from wood and clay and our factories out of the mixtures of earthly materials. All come from the earth, and all so end.
Scott eventually wakes up and the rest of the drive is relatively painless. We arrived in Kiawa around 1:30 AM. We park the car, meet my girlfriend and her cousin, and walk to the beach. Completely deserted, the beach was near pitch black, with the only light being that of the stars and moon. Lying on the beach looking up at the sky and seeing thousands upon thousands of stars, I really got put in my place. I am just Ben Markey, a measly 17-year-old human being, one organism in this ever-expansive gallery of existence that we as human beings call the universe. I didn’t care. At that point in time, apathy was bliss.
We all went skinny dipping in the ocean. As I looked down, I was surprised to see these odd sparkles where the water met my skin. It was as if God was rewarding us for being the way her truly intended us to be. I couldn’t help thinking, “Is this what it was like for Adam and Eve, being naked and being able to look up, down, right or left and see beauty to the utmost sense of perfection.
At 5:00 AM that same morning, Scott and I set off for Charlotte. Scott had to be at work by 9:30 that morning. Scott immediately fell asleep. I didn’t care. I knew he had to work. I put in the Allman Brothers At Filmore East and did my best to combat fatigue in anyway possible. It was futile. By the time we got to the interstate my eyelids were droopy and the idea that I had four more hours of driving to do hit me like a brick wall. In a last ditch effort, I put in White Zombie’s Astro Creep: 2000-the loudest thing I had in the car. It was pointless. I was going to fall asleep. I found it strange when my eyes would snap open, and I would see Cessna aircraft in front of me and cruise liners cutting through the asphalt in the opposite direction, towards Charleston at 80 miles an hour. It was at that point in time when I realized, that if I wanted to survive the night, I would need coffee pronto. So I stopped at the first gas station I saw. It was some little backwoods travel center. I didn’t care. I needed coffee. Watching the black coffee empty into the cheap little Styrofoam cup, I thought to myself, “If Mother Nature is African American, she would be that color.” I also bought an energy drink. Needless to say, the coffee tasted like watered down dirt. It didn’t mattered. I guzzled down both the energy drink and the coffee. Suddenly, I realized the sun was up. I could feel the caffeine running through my veins. Everything was brighter. The trees were greener. The sky was bluer. The asphalt was pretty much the same color though. I didn’t need music anymore. The world was an image and my eyes were the camera lense. Just as a camera lense takes in light to illuminate a picture, my eyes roamed and scoured everything in front of me in an attempt to illuminate my being.
Before crossing the state border into North Carolina, I looked into my rear-view mirror at the immense stretch of interstate that my car had just traversed. Then I looked in front of me at all the road I still had to travel, and I thought to myself, “Life isn’t short. It’s the longest thing I am ever going to do.”
The first hour of the trip went by as I expected. Listening to the Beatles Abby Road, Scott would sit in his seat and dance and groove to the music. Though I never was a big Beatles fan, I always respect good music when I hear it, and began tapping my and feet on the floor and my fingers on the steering wheel, letting the music slowly take over my being. Once the CD ended, I put in one of my favorite albums-The Doors self titled debut album. As the CD was loading I thought to myself that the Beatles was just a warm up, now is when I let the music utterly and completely consume my existence. I suddenly wasn’t in control of my body. The music, the lyrics, the voice, those crazy Indian spirits that Jim Morrison always sings about; they were moving me, they were my brain giving orders to my limbs, telling them to simply let go of all obligation, to simply exist in utmost simplicity. If there was anytime that night at which I was closest to death, it was then. The world was at my fingertips. I thought, “I am going to change the world.” The world is a canvas and my brain the painter. My mind is a canvas and the world is the painter. It didn’t matter. Human beings came from the Earth; we must learn to coexist with nature and be each other’s palettes and painters. And just as Jim Morrison muttered the ending to the CD, my thoughts and feelings stemming from the CD ended as well.
Two hours later, I was somewhere between Columbia and Charleston and Scott was asleep. Listening to the Door’s Soft Parade, sleep was the farthest thing from my mind as I streaked down the interstate. The nighttime was devoid of life, my vision shrouded in darkness, the only light being that of trucks. Everything looked the same; the trees, the trucks, and the road, that looked like it was the unraveled tongue of some savage beast unknown to mankind. Off in the distance, though, I saw promise. I saw the fruition of the dreams of mankind. I saw light. Blazing light. It appeared to be some shining oasis in the middle of the dark desert. As I got closer, I realized that it was a factory. Now not only was it a shining oasis, but it was a beacon of industrial maturity. The sky was littered with stars and the moon shone brightly. A truly beautiful image-a factory blazing with light with a backdrop of cosmic proportions. A haunting juxtaposition. Who should I defy: my creator or my kind? Aren’t they one in the same? Just as we came from something, something will come from us. We as humans are constantly evolving. Besides, this factory and the stars and moon aren’t all that different. Just as mankind is inexorably ensnared in a web of coexistence with nature, so are mankind’s creations. We have built our abodes from wood and clay and our factories out of the mixtures of earthly materials. All come from the earth, and all so end.
Scott eventually wakes up and the rest of the drive is relatively painless. We arrived in Kiawa around 1:30 AM. We park the car, meet my girlfriend and her cousin, and walk to the beach. Completely deserted, the beach was near pitch black, with the only light being that of the stars and moon. Lying on the beach looking up at the sky and seeing thousands upon thousands of stars, I really got put in my place. I am just Ben Markey, a measly 17-year-old human being, one organism in this ever-expansive gallery of existence that we as human beings call the universe. I didn’t care. At that point in time, apathy was bliss.
We all went skinny dipping in the ocean. As I looked down, I was surprised to see these odd sparkles where the water met my skin. It was as if God was rewarding us for being the way her truly intended us to be. I couldn’t help thinking, “Is this what it was like for Adam and Eve, being naked and being able to look up, down, right or left and see beauty to the utmost sense of perfection.
At 5:00 AM that same morning, Scott and I set off for Charlotte. Scott had to be at work by 9:30 that morning. Scott immediately fell asleep. I didn’t care. I knew he had to work. I put in the Allman Brothers At Filmore East and did my best to combat fatigue in anyway possible. It was futile. By the time we got to the interstate my eyelids were droopy and the idea that I had four more hours of driving to do hit me like a brick wall. In a last ditch effort, I put in White Zombie’s Astro Creep: 2000-the loudest thing I had in the car. It was pointless. I was going to fall asleep. I found it strange when my eyes would snap open, and I would see Cessna aircraft in front of me and cruise liners cutting through the asphalt in the opposite direction, towards Charleston at 80 miles an hour. It was at that point in time when I realized, that if I wanted to survive the night, I would need coffee pronto. So I stopped at the first gas station I saw. It was some little backwoods travel center. I didn’t care. I needed coffee. Watching the black coffee empty into the cheap little Styrofoam cup, I thought to myself, “If Mother Nature is African American, she would be that color.” I also bought an energy drink. Needless to say, the coffee tasted like watered down dirt. It didn’t mattered. I guzzled down both the energy drink and the coffee. Suddenly, I realized the sun was up. I could feel the caffeine running through my veins. Everything was brighter. The trees were greener. The sky was bluer. The asphalt was pretty much the same color though. I didn’t need music anymore. The world was an image and my eyes were the camera lense. Just as a camera lense takes in light to illuminate a picture, my eyes roamed and scoured everything in front of me in an attempt to illuminate my being.
Before crossing the state border into North Carolina, I looked into my rear-view mirror at the immense stretch of interstate that my car had just traversed. Then I looked in front of me at all the road I still had to travel, and I thought to myself, “Life isn’t short. It’s the longest thing I am ever going to do.”