"They wouldn't understand you in any language" he giggled between bites of his thin mints. "That's the most mind-blowing thing, I felt like I was on acid just being around them."
I'm sitting in a Grey-hound bus station near Birmingham, Alabama. My quarry is a middle-aged, rail-thin "professor" who has just published a book about, what can only be described as his mid-life crisis. But not any mid-life crisis, most middle aged men just buy a new car or take a kick-boxing class, or start to tend to drink a little too much.
This was a mid-life crisis on steroids, to the tenth degree, multiplied by a million.
"It was birth, auto-generation, a crystal consciousness chrysalis of a million, million illuminations. An entire kingdom, there is no scientific taxonomy for the discrete and enormous differences in perception i have experienced."
He wants to talk to me, and take me hiking or something like that.
This was a mid-life crisis on steroids, to the tenth degree, multiplied by a million.
"It was birth, auto-generation, a crystal consciousness chrysalis of a million, million illuminations. An entire kingdom, there is no scientific taxonomy for the discrete and enormous differences in perception i have experienced."
He wants to talk to me, and take me hiking or something like that.
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