My State of Being
Late one morning, I started losing my mind. Then and there, things became psychedelic. I can’t recount to you all that occurred at that time, but I can paraphrase it: imagine that you disagree with yourself in a most cordial way, as if you’re two British gentlemen meeting on a battlefield on Christmas: you can’t kill each other because of the lovely holiday, but you really do intend to slaughter one another as soon as December 26 rolls around. Despite the holiday, however, these gentlemen still discuss the different causes for which they are fighting – over tea and crumpets of course.