make love not war

Watching Woodstock. In shock and awe. Fucking amazing, as I spiral down the timeline. That's my era.

I haven't seen it in a long time, but I know all of the words by heart.

I remember sitting in h.s., whatever class, and Daryl saying that he was going (ya, right Daryl). We must have just returned from lunch because I can smell the smoke on my long curly hair... (I didn't smoke then, and the smell drove me nuts). We used to go to a restaurant across the street from the h.s., and of course you could still smoke cigarettes anywhere you damned please.

My best friend Bob drove a little yellow beetle and could play the electric guitar with his teeth like Jimmy. We sat in the blue glow of a black light and cried when he died. Bob got very depressed for a long time after that. Now he drives a UPS truck.

I wore strips of rawhide tied around my forehead to hold back the frizzy hair. My dad said I'd better be careful when it rained if the rawhide got wet. When it dried, it might shrivel up and squish my brain.

I wear my love beads with pride.
R.I.P. to an entirely different world.

I wish I would have turned this on earlier.
xoxo
peace.