El Guapo in DC

I am El Guapo. The most Guapo man in all of DC. Mucho Amor

Monday, February 05, 2007

Depeche Mode Part II

I could see words. They were coming out in different colors depending on the sound the made. Any kind of a hard “c” or “k” came out in an orange hue. The “y” sound was a teal color. I wasn’t as much hearing what people were saying, but more translating through the colors coming out of their mouths. It was surreal, but funny. I liked it.

As the short-on-one-side-hair-cut-girl spoke to me in her prism of colors I put my hand against the wall to hold myself up. Seeing colors come out of someone’s mouth isn’t for the weak. As I placed my hand on the wall I noticed the wall ripple against my hand as if someone had thrown a pebble into a pond. The ripples spread throughout the bathroom and the bear kept waving at me through his new plaster pool.

“Dude, you are seriously tripping.”

Pisada… Who does this to someone? A drug through a kiss? What color could I hurl at her to make her know how I did not approve of this? The walls kept increasing in their movement and I was getting dizzy. The bear was starting to get afraid as well and showed it by jumping up and down.

I looked down at her legs which would normally soothe me, but her black and white leggings turned into running zebras jumping as fervently as the little bear on the wall.

The music filtered through the door in a gray-blue tone and that is how I shall forever associate the sound of Depeche Mode. It sounds horrible sober and it looks horrible through my newfound color language.

The little bear was angry. He was doing flips now. Backward and frontward flips. I no longer wanted to look at myself in the mirror because my mustache was doing strange things. I saw the light of the bathroom ceiling. I actually saw each beam of light come down and rest on my body. Each individual beam dancing on my body declaring it his. To feel light is one thing, but to see it, well, I needed out.

I rushed out of the house to go home. Every time I blinked a wave of psychedelic colors, psychedelic waves, haunted my vision. I tried not to blink. I didn’t want to blink. Too much color. Dry eyes...

Each step I took created a wave on the sidewalk and I had to steady myself on the bleeding cars parked on the street because the sidewalk was acting like a bucking horse. Waves of cement rippling higher and higher bringing my knees to my chest. Where was I? I needed to get home, but the waves were too big. They were getting too violent. I don't have sea legs.

I saw a bench that seemed to be withstanding the onslaught of cement waves and I stumbled towards it. I could see that the ground had become a stream of monkey skulls opening and closing their mouths in no particular order. Each step I took would send the monkey skulls scattering across the street as if I were parting the Red Sea. I was kicking monkey skulls away because I was afraid they would bite. Get away monkey skulls!

The bench provided me shelter and the wooden planks grew to protect me from the monkey skulls. I looked over my new bench boat and breathed a sigh of relief that the monkey skulls wouldn’t get to me.

The moon was out, but there were no stars. The moon spoke with me. Soothing colors came from the moon and I eventually fell asleep on my bench boat and dreamed of hiking to find a God. I didn’t go high enough, because I could only hear him. Yellows and pinks, all yellows and pinks.

I woke up at Miguel’s place with him passed out on the floor. I wasn’t angry, but I was perturbed. He must have carried me home.

I opened up his fridge, ate all his flan, then left.

And while I was able to see speech, light beams and a waving teddy bear, the running on monkey skulls is something I would rather soon forget. A beautiful Guatemalan like myself shouldn’t be running on monkey skulls.

Mucho Amor,

El Guapo


At 8:18 PM, Blogger Rev. Brandy said...

El Guapo,

I concur. No beautiful Guatemalan such as yourself should (a) be dosed through a kiss or (b) be subjected to monkey skulls. It's all just wrong.

And very, very funny.

At 9:35 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

bet that would look good in moving colour.

At 2:33 AM, Blogger jayjay said...

oh my, how sober you all portrayed that i was again, giggeling like a 13 year old. that's probalby how i want to be tripping, not voluntarily but curious i am...although on the other hand i hate it so much since drugs have created so much trouble in my love life ever since i can think . at it's always been not me so it sucks.
monkey skulls are for one-side-longer-hair-cut people. not for beautiful mustache wearing men!
oh oh oh

At 9:25 AM, Blogger Christopher Robin said...

Well, it's good to see that Miguel was able to help take care of you...though it was kind of his fault in the first place. So you were most certainly right to eat all his flan.

At 9:42 AM, Blogger A Margarita said...

Wow, that sounds terrible. All of Miguel's flan is the least you deserve.

At 9:57 AM, Blogger Lee said...

I'm just relieved that there has been no mention of date-rape.

At 10:06 AM, Anonymous Melissa said...

Personally I'm pretty disappointed in Miguel.

At 10:15 AM, Anonymous Bob said...

I have always wanted to see sounds in color. There is a rare disorder in which people can see colors, hear smells, etc - I forget the name. It is generally associated with creative people. It is said that Gershwin had this disorder, which led to his famous direction of "Gentlemen, a little bluer, please" in the work which became Rhapsody in blue.

At 10:33 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Could you please tell me how to reach you by email?

At 11:54 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

For the record, some people do have the ability to "hear" color and "see" sounds. It's called synthesia. Look it up on Wikipedia.

I think it would be a cool thing to experience while NOT tripping.

And to second what most people have said, that was pretty low of Miguel to be in such a place, that was just flat-out wrong of the un-symmetrical hair girl, and no one should ever listen to Depeche Mode.

Con Amor,

At 11:59 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Excuse me, it's "Synesthesia". I spelled it wrong in my previous post.


At 2:33 PM, Blogger toszter said...

I love when I check the time and I see my arm from a mile above the clouds, my wrist a thin cord of flesh melting under the weight of my blistering watch.

Its never time enough to go home.


At 4:05 PM, Blogger The Rev said...

Sorry I haven't been around lately, ElGuapo.

But I am back.

At 9:54 PM, Blogger K said...

you're making mama kat worried, dear. The girl you should have jumped in the cab after .... she will be back in DC cabs this weekend... and she won't drug-kiss-bomb you!

At 10:14 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

he almost always writes back within a day

At 12:31 AM, Blogger Mujer Morena said...

That's a trip.

At 3:17 AM, Blogger Moxie said...

Whoa. Wonder what she slipped you?

I have issued a challenge on my blog to you, Arjewtino, and a few other bloggers. Please stop by and check it out!

At 9:44 AM, Blogger Kim Ayres said...

These things can be experienced when you are young, but have far less appeal when you have children to worry about.

Imagine diapers and tripping... *shudder*

At 1:17 PM, Blogger you'dneverguess said...

Hallucinagens should only be used with the users consent. Bad trips are no fun and any trip containing monkey skulls is a bad one in my book.
If you're prepared for it though, it can be the most fun ever.

At 12:35 AM, Blogger avocadoinparadise said...

Wow! It was probably your negative preconceptions about the drug that caused the monkey skulls. And when she mentioned something to you about someone else freaking out in the bathroom that put the idea in your head.

With most drugs, and especially tripping, people have the kind of experience that they expect to have.


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