"You see the signs but you can't read
you're running at a different speed
your heart beats in double time
another kiss and you'll be mine
a one track mind
you can't be saved
oblivion is all you crave
if there's some left for you
you don't mind if you do"*
It was 1986. I was 15 the first time I tasted the blood of another person. It was from the forearm of my then-girlfriend, K-----. And it was transcendent. Sublime. This bliss was so great that I fell onto a bed and was out of commission, according to K-----, for 5-10 minutes. I lost the concept of time. I wasn't unconscious; just unable to act or react to her due to the most intense, passionate experience of my young life.
Winter of 1987.
you're running at a different speed
your heart beats in double time
another kiss and you'll be mine
a one track mind
you can't be saved
oblivion is all you crave
if there's some left for you
you don't mind if you do"*
It was 1986. I was 15 the first time I tasted the blood of another person. It was from the forearm of my then-girlfriend, K-----. And it was transcendent. Sublime. This bliss was so great that I fell onto a bed and was out of commission, according to K-----, for 5-10 minutes. I lost the concept of time. I wasn't unconscious; just unable to act or react to her due to the most intense, passionate experience of my young life.
Winter of 1987.
My friend B---- and I had skipped school and were headed back to his house to hide. It was snowing. And it was silent. Snow has a way of muffling the outside world. We walked along slowly, kicking up snow and occasionally stopping to throw snowballs at street signs.
We turned onto his street.
"I'm glad we're almost there," I said. "Cuz I'm fuckin' freezin'."
We walked along in silence. A couple of minutes later, B---- exclaimed. It jolted me out of the fog I was in.
"What's wrong?"
"My mother's home," he said, pointing up the street. I saw her car parked on the street in front of his house.
"Ok," I said to him "What do we do now?"
"Let's go around the back of the house. Slip into the garage by the side door," he said.
"Ok."
So that's what we did.
His garage was an old wood structure with most of the paint peeled off . It looked about to fall down. I closed the rickety door behind us. Inside, it was filled with too much junk to fit a car in there. B----'s mother had been using it for storage for years. Some old board games. Brett's old toys. Car parts. There were a few huge totes filled with stuff. Bags of clothes etc. It smelled of old, really old, gasoline and dust.
B---- pulled up a couple of folding chairs and we sat down.
"Now what," I said. What do we do until she's gone?"
"Ummm..." He scanned the garage. Then he walked over and grabbed what looked to be a board game.
"What's that?" I asked.
He showed me with a sly smile on his face.
It was a Ouija Board.
"Ok," I said. "Let's go."
We sat facing each other with the board propped up on our knees. Then we took off our gloves and put our cold fingers on the planchette.
It was freezing. I sat shivering on the metal chair. There was a small window; I noted that it was still snowing.
"Is anyone there?" I asked.
We sat there for a minute with nothing happening. B---- snickered. "Don't fuck around," I said.
I was about to remove my hands when the planchette bagan to move slowly across the board. It did a lazy figure 8 pattern a handful of times before coming to an abrupt stop.
"Who's there?" I asked.
This time the planchette moved right away. It moved rapidly and spelled out one word: "Nathan."
About an hour later, we noticed that B----'s mom was gone to work. We went inside to get warm and play some albums.
The rise of the Blood Goddess, and this seemingly tangential, teenage event, have acted as agents, setting me on a trajectory that I'm still on 4 decades later. Infallers, all of us. The rest is history.
"I'm glad we're almost there," I said. "Cuz I'm fuckin' freezin'."
We walked along in silence. A couple of minutes later, B---- exclaimed. It jolted me out of the fog I was in.
"What's wrong?"
"My mother's home," he said, pointing up the street. I saw her car parked on the street in front of his house.
"Ok," I said to him "What do we do now?"
"Let's go around the back of the house. Slip into the garage by the side door," he said.
"Ok."
So that's what we did.
His garage was an old wood structure with most of the paint peeled off . It looked about to fall down. I closed the rickety door behind us. Inside, it was filled with too much junk to fit a car in there. B----'s mother had been using it for storage for years. Some old board games. Brett's old toys. Car parts. There were a few huge totes filled with stuff. Bags of clothes etc. It smelled of old, really old, gasoline and dust.
B---- pulled up a couple of folding chairs and we sat down.
"Now what," I said. What do we do until she's gone?"
"Ummm..." He scanned the garage. Then he walked over and grabbed what looked to be a board game.
"What's that?" I asked.
He showed me with a sly smile on his face.
It was a Ouija Board.
"Ok," I said. "Let's go."
We sat facing each other with the board propped up on our knees. Then we took off our gloves and put our cold fingers on the planchette.
It was freezing. I sat shivering on the metal chair. There was a small window; I noted that it was still snowing.
"Is anyone there?" I asked.
We sat there for a minute with nothing happening. B---- snickered. "Don't fuck around," I said.
I was about to remove my hands when the planchette bagan to move slowly across the board. It did a lazy figure 8 pattern a handful of times before coming to an abrupt stop.
"Who's there?" I asked.
This time the planchette moved right away. It moved rapidly and spelled out one word: "Nathan."
About an hour later, we noticed that B----'s mom was gone to work. We went inside to get warm and play some albums.
The rise of the Blood Goddess, and this seemingly tangential, teenage event, have acted as agents, setting me on a trajectory that I'm still on 4 decades later. Infallers, all of us. The rest is history.
*from Addicted To Love by Robert Palmer
©John Edward Smith Jr.
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