Great Scott

It's been a while since Kirk escapes from his own house into a wagon train. He just waits inside there. See the moonlight and stars, feel the cold ambience in the forest. He's a wanderer most of his life. Right after relentless drug taking when he was 21, Kirk doesn't want to hurt anybody. He knows well the effect of the usage, so he runaway.

Sometimes he thinks about something in his head, probably he thinks the wrong way right after he's taking it, or even drink it in a wrong way. Just need for stimulation and groovy psychedelic effect, turn this world into a cartoon.

He goes to many places, new york, brooklyn, san fransisco, any kind of places acceptable to a people like him. Using an army jacket and blue jeans, dirty sneakers, the old one.

"I need to find a bushes to hide," he murmurs.

He's now on the road. Not sure about what he should do anyway. He brings a notes he used to write anything to keep his fingers work. Otherwise he hurts himself again on a hanging trees.

"What a perfect line," he talks to his own book. Sometimes he writes very fast before he lost in his head and not do anything.

But in nature, he can do anything he wants without hurt anybody. Learning some survival skills, barely.

A car goes to his way, a blue volkswagen beetle. Johnny raises his hand for a ride. "What is it, a girl?" You know what happen there if sometimes it really happens. "Greg?" No, this one is different. "Greg, I need some cold inside, it's too heat out there."

"Sure man, you sweat as hell."

He doesn't talk about the effect of the substance use, he just get in there. They both were a lonely boy with no awareness. No one thinks they were weird. They have some words to say, self esteem, and not stuttering while talking. The only difference is Greg has more faith. Sometimes Kirk doesn't even understand what he means. But it means more than anything to him. He really does.

"You have a hotdog, Greg? I'm starving as hell."

"Sure, man. Don't keep your stomatch empty, no one takes care of you."

Realistic jokes always be their main sources of euphoric feeling.

"Late 60s, huh. Wonder what will happen next decade?" Greg sighs about the less difference.

"There will be not any difference man. But I heard some new fashion out there. Full of colors," Kirk explains.

"Just like the thing you use?" Greg jokes.

"Shut up, man. Watch out of the trees," Kirk pretend to shift the topic.

"Ohh man, look at that." We see an abandoned ranch, enough for us to sleep and at least.... create some limited storages.

"Very funny, Greg. You want to spend time here in a rain. let's find some blonde to hangout with."

It's too easy at this year to find a chick to hang around with this time. But sure Kirk has a hard time lately to make some social interaction. Only with Greg, his second medicine.

"Let's just lay there for a while," Greg gives advice.

They sleep there, eyes opened. Too old to hang around in creeps.

"I have a hard time to make some interaction man, not even close," Kirk whispering as he lost his voice.

"Yeah. We barely work at some factories to keep our bellies full. Other side we don't have any."

"How about the papers we sent to the recording studio?" What they meant is a newspaper record.

"Sold out. People get rid of old fashioned way of living. Get ready for changes Kirk, we face it whatsoever.

"I just kick Cindy out from my house?" Kirk being unstable these times. Not a shocking news for Greg.

"Do whatever you want man. I don't need to have time for advice." Well Greg never really meant it that way neither.

They get out before the rain begins. They both write anything to sell on some publishers, just enough to buy some sandwiches twice a day. Kirk searching for water from Cindy's rent house. People will think how self absorbed he is. But Greg, he knows well his friend.

Greg is a mysterious man, he can arrive anywhere, gone, then arrive to another place.

On the other hand, Kirk goes to Cindy's rent house, just to have a chocolate drink.

Without knocking the door, he just open it. Her house is his house. He sits there, while Cindy already put some television on upside the wall.

"Knock, knock." It's not a word, just a hand punches the table gently, but enough to makes Cindy get outside from the door.

Without a talk, Cindy knows what she should do. "Your eyes look empty," she said softly. "Synthwave in my head, Cindy. I'm thirsty."

Kirk touches his forehead as he need to pay the rent with some cents he made from the Kirk Studio Publisher.

"We probably get outside this hole, Cindy."

"What? But we just move here," she confused.

Kirk can't hold the heat, so he just sleep in her room.

"You don't even touch your drink," she worried.

"Later Cindy, good night."

"This is evening, Kirk."

The next day appear, Kirk goes outside with very fast write book on his hand while walking to the studio.

Greg comes appear from nowhere. A lot of trees there, Kirk still being confused with his own head.

"You look sick, man," Greg teases him.

"That's the way I look man, now if you excuse me, I have work to do."

Kirk flickes his finger as always to cope with his brain problem. Or drawing some pebbles in the book. Sometimes he has an affair with Linda, a new songwriter appear in the early 1960s. Her sound makes him feel calm, but never attend her live section. He has a hard time to idolize somebody. Not because a narcisstic tendency, but he didn't realize he lack self esteem.

Sure he's a hard working man with scary head and tries to intimidate Cindy to prevent something bad she does to him.

But inside, he's a hard man who just being a caveman inside his head.

Kirk and Greg goes seperate way. Kirk has no creativity these days, so he just write some news everytime he found some crimes and do nothing about it. No one really cares about hoax during those times, so it doesn't even matter.

But for Kirk, he doesn't care neither even if the public concerned the real event.

He finds Linda in the bar. She plays the song Yesirree. Yeah, this one is real. He doesn't know how to express his feelings. Nothing really matters. He packed his guitar case inside and just play with it. Carry it and hold it as it's the last thing can protect him from insanity. Ice tea is enough for him, low amount of alcohol. Quite careful with what he drinks and eats. Lots of fruits to lessening the withdrawal effects.

"Kirk!" Linda with her cheerful personality runs to him. "Come, sit." "Fine, sir," unlike Cindy, she teases his grumpy behaviour, "Get me a cloud candy, Linda." "Ok."

Kirk never really cares about the others think about the food and drinks he consumed not correlated with his age. "What do you want, Kirk?" Linda always asked about what he wants. She often being clueless, but she knows well if someone need to be cheered up. He's often looked scary.