Confessions of a Human Nerve Ending

August 9, 1995 I'm not exactly sure what I was doing, but I know I wasn't happy. My first long term relationship was winding down and I was restless, unsure of the promise that it once held, and ignoring plaintive appeals from my muse to write more, get involved in something larger than myself and lonely. There were moments that held a clarity for me, that shifted me off whatever path I'd been on, and hearing the chorus to "Fire on the Mountain" from outside the amphitheater in Kansas sparked some weird cognizance in my LSD addled brain and I had to get back in. The security guard did not agree. After getting pummeled we came to some measure of understanding and I passed the rest of that concert --July 4th, 1991--on my own. This was a turning point for me Jerry, and however clichè it may sound I became a "Deadhead," a hippy, jumping into some other way of being that I still struggle to define. What I was melted...