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.