In The Beginning There Was Cecil

 

Then I met Cecil …

I left the comfort of my bus and began to exploring . Still under the influence of last nights dinner of psychedelic mushrooms and weed I stumbled along a road leading to the main tent where a band was playing.

The sky was pink and the trees were pixelated . I couldn’t feel my legs which would explain why I then collapsed .

My face hit the ground , I wasn’t hurt but I decided to just lay there for awhile. With the side of my face pressed against the ground all I could see was the tall grass which lined the side of the road . It seemed to join the ground to the sky. I was thinking of what would happen if somehow I was able to remove the pink sky from on top of the grass when a book stepped in front of my view . Combat boot with white spray paint on the heal , laces blood red. “you ok mate?” I turned my head and looked up to find a hand , black nail polish . He was reaching out to help me up . ‘ah yes . yeah I’m good” I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet . “thanks man “ I said as I dusted myself off . “so what was it ? , mushies ?” he’d obviously seen this before . “yes, stronger than my usual I guess “. He put out his hand again , “sorry , I don’t have anymore” he looked back at me confused and then laughed “no man , I’m Cecil , nice to meet you”

He had a white Mohawk and a tattoo on his neck . It seemed that he had a cigarette pressed between his top lip and his bottom lip ring at all times. Despite his rough exterior he seemed like a genuine guy. 

I walked with Cecil back to his camp and we spoke about music and the festival . I told him that it was my first time at this particular festival and that it was my last one . I found out that it was his 10^th . We sat down and smoked a joint and I told him about my fear . "you're looking for peace in the music ? , well I can tell you a bit about that"

And so it began , the story of Cecil and the Birth Of Kwaicore .

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