It’s still two days before I’ll find it reasonable to search for Christmas trees in the desert.  Two days from now, drunk at 11AM, fried on various drugs, lost beyond reason.

Today though my fake rabbit fur coat says style, and the substance abuse is still under control.  And I’m looking for circus girl.

Circus girl had been the original catalyst for my venture to the desert.  There is somebody else I’d rather find, but she may not take all that kindly to my reappearance.  So here’s me, feeling reasonable, about to find the little gypsie queen.

Pulling her tent zipper reveals the sleeping face of an angel.  Those deep green eyes, the dark skin, little tiger body put all reason and logic on hold.  Unwittingly I just now set off a two day countdown spiral through non stop raging parties, drugs, sex, fires, and total blackouts.

I didn’t come to the desert as a tourist.  There are those with their fancy RVs, food supplies, carefully orchestrated agendas.  Me, didn’t bother with so much as a sleeping bag.  The kind of madness I came looking for wouldn’t allow for ever finding my camp site, or sleeping in a tent I could have brought.  This is a place filled with beautiful heart breakers, alcohol, art, and all the drugs known to man.  This is a place you won’t leave the same as you arrived, if you’re ready to let it in your head.  Find your true self, no hiding behind reason or logic.

A lot of crazy shit happened that week.  Maybe I’ll figure out how to write about it.

Disclaimer:  All references to activities potentially out of the bounds of legality are obviously purely fictional.