December 5th, 1973
Dear Diary,
A latticework is unfolding, the air is too hot to breath ("Breathing heated air in conjunction with consumption of alcohol is capable of causing unconciousness"). Somewhere on this lattice are microscopic points of light, one is Jen (pale lilac light), one is me (pale yellow light), and one is green and unnamed. I must lean backwards or simply lower myself to a crawling position to escape this heat.
"more than a feeling."
I smell horrible, like corn and feet. My manager threatened to fire me because I was late four days in a row. How do I tell her I'm slipping out of regular time and therefore can barely read my own watch anymore? Well... I can't. That sounds like crazy-talk. It IS crazy-talk.
But what is crazier that crazy-talk? Being taken seriously for it. That's one of those things in life that prevent a complete outbreak of craziness. A little safegaurd that works like this:
"Blah blah blah crazy-talk blah blah"
"Man, that's crazy-talk."
So the former now realizes that he sounds crazy and may begin to seek help or perhaps (more likely, actually) keep it to himself. Sometimes that safegaurd slips, however, like with Jen. When I share this kind of talk with Jen it opens up a whole pandora's box of her own insane ramblings. These are mad tangents I had never even heard before. It's kind of charming in an odd way.
"It feels like the very first time."
A latticework is unfolding, the air is too hot to breath ("Breathing heated air in conjunction with consumption of alcohol is capable of causing unconciousness"). Somewhere on this lattice are microscopic points of light, one is Jen (pale lilac light), one is me (pale yellow light), and one is green and unnamed. I must lean backwards or simply lower myself to a crawling position to escape this heat.
"more than a feeling."
I smell horrible, like corn and feet. My manager threatened to fire me because I was late four days in a row. How do I tell her I'm slipping out of regular time and therefore can barely read my own watch anymore? Well... I can't. That sounds like crazy-talk. It IS crazy-talk.
But what is crazier that crazy-talk? Being taken seriously for it. That's one of those things in life that prevent a complete outbreak of craziness. A little safegaurd that works like this:
"Blah blah blah crazy-talk blah blah"
"Man, that's crazy-talk."
So the former now realizes that he sounds crazy and may begin to seek help or perhaps (more likely, actually) keep it to himself. Sometimes that safegaurd slips, however, like with Jen. When I share this kind of talk with Jen it opens up a whole pandora's box of her own insane ramblings. These are mad tangents I had never even heard before. It's kind of charming in an odd way.
"It feels like the very first time."