I've only come to my mother for help on three occasions: First, I vastly misjudged how much acid I'd taken, and things went from bad to worse quicker than I could have anticipated. The other two sound a lot more melodramatic, but they affected me all the same. With statistics like that, women can have a far more significant effect on your psyche than any drug I've done to date.
If you asked any of my friends who were with me on that faithful day, they would tell you that my level of 'trip' was not something you'd look for in any acid experience. The whole thing had extreme overtones of misguided, misplaced and mismanaged "psychedelia". But when I managed to leave the situation and stumble home to my mother. The warmth and understanding of her voice brought me back down to earth and the feeling. To be born again, in the sense of the word. After that, I found myself in one of the most enjoyable mindsets of my life. Now, on the other two occasions, I can't say I have the same pleasantries to write about. So il leave these up to the imagination.
Home. Not only is it where my parents live. Home for me is a place I never have to put on a smile or force myself to create small talk with single-serving friends (not that I don't like single-serving friends. Some of the most exciting people I've ever met have been single serving.). I do not need to impress anyone here. As horrible as it is to say. If I don't know you in this small town, I do not need to know you, although that might sound bland to some. To me, it's just… Relaxing. I don't have to meet people, and they don't have to meet me. Perfect balance. My friends here, most I've known since my first memories, and most have rinsed me well before that point. It created an almost brotherly connection with these people. To quote, stand by me "I never had friends like the friends I had when I was 12. Jesus, does anyone?". I find solace in knowing that whatever happens in my life, wherever I go. When I come back home, it all feels the same. Exactly how it did when I was 12 years old.
Although, I have always wondered, living in Newcastle for so long, what it would have been like to be born, grow up, and be from there. Would I be even deeper in the scene? I don't know. But the one thing I can say. No matter how intense this lifestyle I've chosen can get. The parties, the people, the intensity of it all. Home always brings a sense of calm. It's helped me be genuinely alone if I want to be. You can never really say you're alone in Newcastle or any city. There is always someone kicking about in the area. But at home…Silence.
With this, I realised that I've never been truly 'alone' throughout my life. I can walk in a few specific directions and know I'm unlikely to see anyone. Maybe a dog walker at certain points of the day. But that's it…Silence.
Eventually, I find myself on a lonely hillside with one of the most beautiful homely views right before me: no headphones, no phone, no one but me and my camera. Without my phone or headphones, I listen to everything around me. Nature is in full swing. Very bird with its song, each creating a 122bpm two-step. Every tree whispers stories to one another, slagging off the long-haired nomad crossing through its land. Even the different coloured fields form beautiful ripples in the wind, creating their oceans in the grassland…I wonder where the wave will eventually break. After everything with my passion for raving, I sometimes forget why I got into it all. You can find yourself in the sounds, music, and hypnotised state if you are willing to listen. Not the drugs or the excuse to…' get on it.
As the path turns from cobbled stone to none at all. Walking through with plants at knee-high, the peacefulness to hold your hands out and feel the growth underneath you. Going from one pasture to the next, almost like passing through a colour wheel of fields. Still unsure where the path I've stumbled upon is going, I start to familiarise myself with the area around me. As I continued, I began to realise that this place wasn't unknown at all. I'd seen that deep into the land around me; it was almost unrecognisable. Flashbacks of a 15-year-old me staggering around in my first psychedelic experience. Camping out with some of my closest and not-so-'closest' friends, not fully knowing what we were getting ourselves into. The naivety of that day still feels strange. Almost like the symbolic naivety of my youth, summed up into that moment. I see my life before and after that day. I pinpointed at a few brief minutes when my three best mates and I looked out across the wheat field around the back. The sky was split in half, one half this deep black starry night and the other half this beautiful yellow summer's day. I'm still waiting to see something like it again. We stood there in silence. No one spoke. No one needed to. We all just knew.
I see my life before and after that day. At that moment, I became a man. My whole outlook on life changed. My attitude toward myself and the person I thought I was changed completely. In a cringy way, I left a piece of myself on that field.
But as the nostalgia faded, I moved on and continued home. It was just a shame that at about this moment, things ended dramatically when one misguided fart turned into a mile and half-waddle home.
I wish I'd brought my phone now.
Thanks for reading.
Signing off, Justified Passion. x