Coming to the Haight (insert from book)

I was wading through the sea of smilling faces as a group of hippies called for me to join them. I walked towards them smilling. I sat next to a lady with a star tatoo'd on her shoulder. She told me her name was Star Child as she passed me a joint. I took the joint inhailing deeply, I could feel the Buzz washing over me as I let the smoke curl into rings from my lips. My eyes were seeing colors more brilliant than the flashing strobe lites in the window of the headshop we were sitting in front of on Haight Street. Everything sparkled, even the people seemed to glow. When I started seeing paisleys and trailers I knew I was trippin'. I asked Star Child what was in the joint we were smoking and she just shrugged her shoulders as she said grining.. PCP I think or maybe DMT. I took another hit and passed it to the dude sitting next to me.
He looked to be in his fourties. His skin was withered with deep lines in his face. He had a big ruby in his left nostral and an old captains hat covering his shaggy black hair. There was a long scar from his right eye to his throat. He took the joint and handed me a bottle of MD 2020 in a paper bag I drank hungerly from the bottle as my thirst had grow and my mouth had become tremendously dry from whatever was in the doobie.
There were hundreds of people in the street, dancing and chanting as we sat the on the sidewalk smoking reffer and drinking from the paper bag. Music was coming from everywhere at once. In the darkness of night the street seemed to melt into a su-realistic state of concessness, the mimes with their painted faces acting out sceens of drama in their theactrical form, taunting the tourists as they stared from the protection of their cars, windows rolled up as to not "catch anything". The Flower Childern tossing flowers on their cars as they passed clicking their cameras, lightbulbs flashing leaving trailers in the San Francisco mist. I felt alive, alive and part of something life changing, world changing even, like minded people gathering to make a difference. I was Home and there was love all around me.

 

hmmmmmmmm


"I walked towards them smilling as I sat next to a lady"

.... may be i'm too conventional but how do you walk as you sit.....:S just a pointer

 

If you were smokin droppin' and drinkin' what I was you could walk run sit stand n rollover all at the same time Peace sunflower ( i forgot a comma, makes all the difference)




Dont be cruel to a heart that's true

 

I had here an unkind thought, I have to go wash myself with salt and Holy Water. I'm sorry.

Peace Love and Hippie Beads <shameless>

 

Is your text from a book, you are writeing? If it is, what`s it`s subject?

I like it.

Love&Peace

 

Hi Heaven> It's a page out of my Book, it hasn't been published yet. I have a sequal also and I hope to get it out soon..although it's been suggested that I might want to make a screen play out of it..I would abosolutly adore doing that. If I had a clue as how to go about it. I'm not a pro just someone who lived it, I'm not into politics so my book differs from the usual political points of view. My book(s) r about what was happening on Haight St. and in the park and what I was doing n who I was doing it with. Not that my life was so extra special, but the things that were going on around me sure were. Most o the books I've come across are wonderful information books, But I must addmitt that some are from ones that visited or watched from the outside looking in so to speak more on a documentary note. A few Oldersters from the beginning when the Haight was new put out several good books. Most of that stuff had been said to death by the time it all ended and there was nothing else to say. I was in the middle of communes ,black panthers ,white panthers, wonded knee, kent state, rock n roll, all with in a 10 block radius. Whatever was happening it was happening in the Haight. People came from everywhere in the world to be there, by the thousands, all in native dress, cultures and customs. I was very young when I got to Hippieland alone with only my backpack 50$ and my guitar. The "Elders" of the street people watched over me and fed me. I was called Little Flower for a time, while I was a Flower Child.

 

Is this going to be a Biography kind of thing? Or a General 3rd person story of the time?

The perspective is a bit vague. But, Great so far!

 

Hiya Matt. >No sweetie not a bio or maybe it is, hell I'm not sure, I had a not so wonderful childhood. I was a troubled youth. There was something growing in side me that I couldn't explain, I felt different then every one else my age did.
I wa plucked from my hearts home when I was an eight yr. old Dallas TX wild child. I had two older sisters that were wild too. We came from a home of neglect and filth. My mother was depressed. She had been raised with a siliver spoon in her mouth and didn't know shit about raising kids or cleaning house (my poor daddy). I being the youngest taught me how to fight to get a scrap of food. I was just a child when we moved to LA,and then to Anahiem two ys. later. I was ten when I started sunkist grammer school, everyone made fun of me because I talked like a hick, had freckles and didn't dress like them. I hooked up with the older crowd and soon I was turning on tunning in and droping out. I suppose I went to "Frisco" to find exceptance and unconditional love. I heard there were people like me there, so there I went. My writing style in my books if I have any style at all is just as it comes to my mind I write it down. more of a rememberance. Maybe I didn't do enough drugs in the sixties, cuz I remember tooo much.
Peace Love and Hippie Beads <shameless>