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.
The aforementioned description does a reasonably good job of describing my emotional state at the time of this late one morning. Physically, I was just about as sluggish as Jabba the Hutt: arrogant, confident, and wealthy but still very sluggish. Mentally, I was like an Egyptian pharaoh: my brain had been stirred out by a little extraction hook, and the rest of me had been doused with something much like formaldehyde. Spiritually, honestly, I was like a young child (if the child’s parents actually care about him or her): youthful, trusting, impressionable, lighthearted, oblivious, wistful, impatient, desirous, and pretty much anything else a reasonable child could be.
Sadly, this is all to contrast what I had been just not too long before that late one morning:
Emotionally, I was like a young child: whining and puling about nothing in particular. I made stuff up so that I could worry about it. Mentally, I was like a young child: I wasn't thinking very clearly or slowly. I didn't recall to mind anything that I knew, especially anything that would assuage my freaking out. Plus, I didn't really do much thinking in general; most of my thoughts were thoughtless, impulsive mutterings. Physically, I was like a young child: weak, sleeping a lot, easily tired out. Spiritually, I was afraid. I was forgetful, and I was afraid.
The aforementioned description does a reasonably good job of describing my emotional state at the time of this late one morning. Physically, I was just about as sluggish as Jabba the Hutt: arrogant, confident, and wealthy but still very sluggish. Mentally, I was like an Egyptian pharaoh: my brain had been stirred out by a little extraction hook, and the rest of me had been doused with something much like formaldehyde. Spiritually, honestly, I was like a young child (if the child’s parents actually care about him or her): youthful, trusting, impressionable, lighthearted, oblivious, wistful, impatient, desirous, and pretty much anything else a reasonable child could be.
Sadly, this is all to contrast what I had been just not too long before that late one morning:
Emotionally, I was like a young child: whining and puling about nothing in particular. I made stuff up so that I could worry about it. Mentally, I was like a young child: I wasn't thinking very clearly or slowly. I didn't recall to mind anything that I knew, especially anything that would assuage my freaking out. Plus, I didn't really do much thinking in general; most of my thoughts were thoughtless, impulsive mutterings. Physically, I was like a young child: weak, sleeping a lot, easily tired out. Spiritually, I was afraid. I was forgetful, and I was afraid.
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