To my friends. There seems to be many stories around about my hospitalization. My father put me in anonymously, because I was drinking at home, instead of Lounge 47 because I had social anxiety disorder. I felt like I was cramping other peoples' style & since I appeared to myself to be an irritant towards other people I removed myself from social situations. I didn't drink as much, but since I drank at home my father thought I was unusually drunk, which was not the case, I was drinking less at home, maybe 3 pints or so & not everyday. My father says he put me in the mental hospital because he could not stand to see me drink one more time. He just basically wanted me to get over my social anxiety.

So with this dark cloud over my head, & feeling like a pariah, I encountered a paradigm shift & entered another reality. Dream state was similar to wake time, & in this twilight of sleep & wakefulness I would pop up out of bed with a start, & knew instantly that I was completely awake, so I went about this way for three days, accomplishing a modern day "Indian" Sundance. I appeared to be on a mission. I fung shwayed my loft & the energy changed in my room. The vision quest from the 3 day Sundance & change of environ allowed me to hallucinate without using drugs. From what I experienced it all seemed real & I moved mountains with my mind so to speak alla Castanada style.

It may have been a delusion, or it might have had something to do with this Mayan apocalypse. In any event what I do with my time is no bodies business but my own as long as I don't hurt myself or hurt others. "Trips" like these happen every 7 years or so in my life. Something had to be done, & you should all thank me for what I did & stop saying that I was drinking too much. I wasn't even spending money, was not going out, & when the cops came to get me, the cops stole 300 dollars from my loft. His name was Conception. Fine. I never lie, & I have never never hallucinated. I know the difference between reality & delusional states. It also had something to do with the disaster of Sandy. I saw on the radar of the weather report of when Sandy made landfall on North America. It was a huge monster maybe ten miles high two miles wide, marching out of the sea. That was a supernal storm. & while nothing happened to me, a great deal was lost.

I have a purpose on this planet, & sometimes my life gets strange, but within my imagination with the power unlocked by the hallucinatory Sundance, many characters visited my bed. They were in spirit form. There was an otherworldy creature that exacted justice, & from the top of my roof I saw him swoop in to the city & kill about 5 people & dump the bodies in the time it takes to zip up one's pants. It seemed to have been a silver surfer type of creature, that can time travel & ensure justice for this path of life we are on. It is like the mother ship concept, which is a zoological armada that brings all fine specimens of life forms to other sister planets - but this silver surfer character flies solo, & is basically an executioner. The night of the snow storm I will tell you about now.

I had been warned all day before the snow storm, that I was to be alone, "the last man left on Earth", but I through caution to the wind. It seemed ridiculous, & I would rather be rational than be paranoid about apocalypses & matters in times when America is about to fail - everything hangs in the balance. I walked through my apartment & I was unsure if even my Aunt or my Father were lying in their beds or not. I didn't want to be too freaked out. So I went on my way into the night. This was not Earth, I was truly the last man in that dimension. There were spirit folk around, they walked the Earth but they left no footprints in the snow. & the only woman who I love on Earth too, I saw at the end of the block. It was her (I am not telling who it is). I was relieved. Because as I had looked outside my building, I saw people who were there but weren't there. I could see through them. So this is why I went outside to investigate this falseness.

So the woman I loved, broke apart as if she were made of snow, & her mantle had fractured. I walked not too far, but the people on the streets in that dimension were either translucent spirits, or damned people. I did not care if it was I who damned these people, or they were damned for something they did. We are all in this together, & one bad apple can make rot out of a barrel of apples. So we have to forgive, move on & be strong, accept blame & be a better man today than we were yesterday.

Evidently I was in another dimension. I was awake, maybe it was a dreamworld that I entered but I was of the flesh. The wind howled something fierce & had a stare down contest with me. It seemed I was on the edge of the universe in some folded space, & it was the maker of the universe that had come to converse. In its greatness & loneliness of the infinity of bringing all life in this universe to fruition, the wind seemed desperate to find a champion for the cause of what the spiritual realm beings cannot do themselves since they do not have hearts. The Earth seemed to be fractured, & the tristate area was ripped out from the planet & sent to this barrier beyond where the damned can stand. For me it was judgement day. Was I worthy to be deemed a crusader for man's plight? The wind seemed to howl from the 59 street bridge, & whip around houses to show me how small I was in its power.

But still I was unafraid. I walked the street & there was two people of the flesh, but the rest were just images, not really there. I am glad I was not alone. Man was in sorry shape, worlds had come together, worlds had separated, fractured, but I was whole, complete & not fragile. So the mighty wind beckoned me to continue on with the quest. The silver surfer had killed the ones who had done the most wrong, & the paradigm shift was avoided, but even for the silver surfer, eternity is too long to account for justice for all time's sake, so a new silver surfer had to be appointed. There was just too many dimensions, milk was bad, food had no flavor, flowers were made of fake silk, everything was false in this constructed planet for if the whole Earth had been brought to meet the Maker of this expanse of life devoid of true proper soul love & misspent time, I don't think the Earth could have survived.

I forgot who I was, I was in limbo, my windows had my apartment upside down inside, & if I flipped a dime a hundred times it would land on the side of the 110 ridges each time. Physics meant nothing. At least the tabac was real. Then the cops came to get me & take me to a place where I would remember who I was since in my time of judgement I had passed the test to be of the flesh & to still keep my soul, I did a Polidori, a move of asexual reproduction & animation, since no fine woman had ever gotten with me to reproduce another sire. I did the ten moons move, something in my bag of tricks, & my body started to dissolve the fiber of my being. I remained resolute. I figured if this was a trip in the mind, & this Dali time warp had made things real fall apart, this time of reckoning could be withstood with a countenance of brave, bold face riverboat gambler stare down belief in self. I found my right hand could undo what my right hand had done wrong. So with my body becoming more and more dissolute, my mind resolved to be resolute, & this was enough to win the day.

The spirits however wanted more proof that I could be this champion crusader, for the way I was working was the way Gods worked - willing things to be, based on faith in inherent power, the way things were constructed depended upon how things aught to work, & once understanding how the things operated, it was just a hop skip & a jump to cantilever a bridge to connect all these realities of folded space which was dissolving do to the weakening of the Gods. There will be no apocalypse, it was in the 25th hour, in the corner of the universe Man's mettle was tested & God's had awakened for a brief moment to inspect this little prick know it all, that so many times had asked for God to take me away from this planet of losers than can no longer stand with me, so I will be the postman, in the apocalypse, meeting myself in some other reincarnation, moving in other directions, both ways being better than to meet my weathered face that I had raped with my passion for vampirism, to keep this one man gang strolling along like nothing evidently really matters that which can be done can also be undone with the wave of a hand.

Don't worry about me & people stop complaining. I am strong, life is the way it is, it rots, but I still have the power to love even though I cannot stand myself in my own presence. Maybe myself from the future, from where time ends & have come back to stitch this fabric of reality together, maybe he is a better man than me - but neither can walk backwards in flip flops. He would have the matches & I would have the smoke.