Psychotic episode no. 133

I walk home from State Street sometime after midnight, counting the blocks as I go. I unlock the door, climb the stairs and slowly walk down the hall. The hallway turns into an underground tunnel where menacing-looking apparitions reach out to grab me from between the bars of their cells. I walk as close to the middle of the hall as I can. Events of the evening dissolve ..the crowd at Sohos dissolves.. my bedroom door looms up and I push it open with my shoulder. Books have always been a source of refuge for me, so I pick one off the shelf and fall into bed. I turn the page, the room dissolves ..and the letters rise up like pillars. Somewhere a voice whispers “if it’s refuge you’re after ..you’re in the wrong place ..there’s nowhere to hide ..people will only make up what they can’t see anyhow.” Now the letters are forming words ..and the words, like thoughts, are circling my head ..mockingly ..pronouncing judgment .. like a booming voice, from a higher authority, coming down from the sky.