But life does not have
to be that way. Life can be wonderful."
Typically, I would have felt elated by the attention he was giving me.
It had been years since we were close. But through hallucinating
eyes he seemed distant and small, and his attempt to cheer me up
made me feel worse.
"Why don't you go jump in the pool," he finally said.
Years before, in La Jolla, he had often suggested "Pool Therapy"
as a way to douse the flames of a conflict burning within. In Malibu,
as in La Jolla, my woes soon diffused among ripples from the impact
of one hand slapping.
I played in the shallow end during that LSD trip until Rama
asked Sal, who was not tripping, to drive me home. When we arrived
at my apartment I felt lucid, creative, fearless. I started
to say whatever popped into my mind. Sal looked surprised.
He looked at me as if I were someone else.
Sal offered to take me for a walk. With my arms dangling and torso bent,
I moved like an injured ape. But gradually I slouched with Sal's
support down the hill to the beach.
"Look, Mark," said Sal. "There's the ocean."
I looked to the frozen snapshot of the sea. I blinked and the waves
rolled closer--then they froze again. Then I saw whales diving and
breaching in slow motion.
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