Hypnotized

Sean is really starting to send me over the edge, more than ever before. Today was insane. I can’t be sure how insane it actually was because I’m still a little bit high. The couple times I’ve gotten high I just lose all points of reference.

This one time Sean convinced me to prank call the Falafel King, and order 100 falafels for delivery. So I did. And when the delivery guy showed up, Sean answered the door wearing a bright red dress with a crown and said he was the Falafel Queen. We owed four hundred dollars for the falafel, but at the time it was hilarious and completely worth it. Of course the next day mom went insane when she saw the 96 falafel sandwiches in the fridge.

I blame myself because when I get high I get lost in my own head.

With that in mind, I’m still not sure how much what happened today bothered me but as I come down from the high, I’m starting to feel more and more upset.

The day began when Sean and I cooked an ungodly amount of pot into Nutella and spread it on those butterfly crackers with peanut butter. We ate them, and then went running on the beach. Oh yeah-- I forgot to mention that we’re in Florida right now! Spring BREAK!! Key West. It’s picturesque. It makes sense that Hemmingway loved it so much here. I’m trying to grow a beard but it’s not silver.

The crackers were really good; I couldn’t taste the weed at all. Cooked them for 15 minutes, just like Tywan told me to. Oh, that’s news too: Tywan called me! Just out of the blue, he called me up. Apparently he’s still living in Brooklyn. We didn’t talk about mom, though I was dying to ask, but he told me how to make these pot desserts and wants me to come down and visit him when I get back to Pencey. His voice was exactly as I’d expect it to sound after all these years, just deeper. Anyway, of course Sean was down with the pot dessert idea. It’s a good thing to do on vacation; of course I would never do it during school.

Speaking of which, mom got me the new Lupe Fiasco album for the vacation: The Cool. I’ve been listening to it this whole trip, it’s fantastic. Good for running too. Sean got the Wu Tang album, The 8 Diagrams.

Flashback to noon today-- we’ve been up for six hours because we watched the sunrise and then had a huge breakfast (which Sean skipped)-- I wasn’t that hungry for lunch, but he should have been. I don’t know how the dude survives, being so skinny and working out so much.

So we’re running down the beach, and Sean starts drifting off. I knew because a couple of girls were trying to skim board but I could tell they were just looking for an excuse to block our way and talk to us. So I start to point them out to Sean and then I realize that it had hit me too. Not as hard, but enough so that when we got to the girls they gave us a really weird look. I think I had a huge, stupid smile on my face.

Usually, Sean and I have this perfect system where we both kick our game and play off of each other. Sean’s the show off who picks them up and I’m the smart, quiet one who keeps the conversation going. Works almost every time. Like yin and yang.

But this time, when Sean noticed the girls he just ran past them. I chased after him, but of course Sean starts sprinting when I start catch up to him. Never lets me win. Too bad I’ve always been slightly faster (I know how that pisses him off). So when I finally did catch up to him, I tackled him into the sand. I was laughing but when I got up Sean looked like he was crying. Then he rolled over and started to try to bury his head in the sand like an ostrich. Of course it didn’t work, and a giant wave washed over him. I dragged him back on to the beach a little bit and he started screaming, “Make them stop! They’re licking me up! With their eyes!” The girls were laughing at us from a little further down the shore, and I tried to calm him down but he pulled me down with him. “Who?” I asked. Sean pointed back at the girls. We’re both lying there like idiots and then he started saying even weirder things. I don’t remember all of them, I should have written it down then. What stuck out the most, though, was when he started talking about our mom. He kept saying, “I wanna go back inside. I want to start over.” I asked him why and he shook his head really hard so that his eyes watered even more and I still couldn’t tell whether he was crying or just really upset. “Don’t ask me that”, he said. “You can’t come! That’s the one place you can’t follow me to!”

I got up and tried to survey the situation. In retrospect, those girls down the beach must have thought we were retarded, what with Sean lying there, trying to burrow into the sand while I stood above him staring out at the ocean.
Shit I forgot about that! I remember becoming completely transfixed with the waves for god knows how long. I watched as one would form, and then followed it as it would curl and break, wash ashore, and then recede back into the water. I felt this profound excitement as I watched each one form, as if I was making a new friend or falling in love. Then, as it broke and washed back out, I could have cried. It was some American Beauty shit. I felt like that dude with the video camera and the plastic bag. But I didn’t care; I’d follow the foam back into the ocean and find another wave as it was forming. Like watching a whole lifetime happen in three seconds.
The two of us probably stayed that way for an hour. When I finally realized where I was, I looked down and found Sean sleeping at my feet. He looked really dehydrated so I carried him back up the beach a ways until we found this little crab shack. That’s where I’m writing this right now, on the back of the paper menu. I’ve already made Sean drink a glass of water and he has an orange juice on the way. I got a fish n chips and a Piña Colada. Shit, the food’s coming, gotta go---