9:57 a.m. - March 30, 2002
universe copulation
It seems that Paxil and weed don't mix, but I suppose I can't say that definitively, since one time with both is hardly a basis, and they say I should have smoked more to make the two forces stop fighting. The Paxil was trying to make me keep my composure, and the weed was trying to make me lose it. The two fighting down inside the deep recesses of my body made the weed/paranoia part of me believe that my throat was closing up, and the medication part say 'don't be silly, this is the same batch you smoked the other time and therefore cannot make your throat close up', and as a result I felt very strange.

But it was distraction I needed, really, as I felt fine once we started talking about parallel universes, and how they come to be, and is the universe a sentient being, and such. And how do parallel universes form? Are they byproducts, or children, of two other universes? And how would universes look copulating? The picture in Erik's head was of those Koosh balls, wildly going at it. My mind was more thinking of the image of the bubble that baby Mario goes into when he falls off Yoshi's back. Two of those bubbles, busy being universes and copulating away, probably minus baby Mario, or else Yoshi would slurp up the universe and that would be the end of that. I mean, what if that is how the universe finally ends? By getting slurped up by Yoshi? Our last view, the papillae of a huge green dinosaur's tongue.

Nintendo would become a major world religion in the next life. Yoshi would be God. He smited us for being sinful, and such, and slurped us up, and only the true Nintendo believers ascended to heaven to be one with Yoshi forevermore.

On a saner note, I half-figured out why I feel guilty for everything I've ever done ever, which is a lot, and I was trying to explain to them how it wasn't a Catholic-type guilt, the type you can offer up and then walk away crossing yourself and saying Hail Marys until your tongue falls off and you die and become one with God, provided you finished your Hail Marys. Not that type at all. The type you can't offer up to anywhere, because you're too ashamed to tell anyone. The guilt that comes from knowing your mind scripts your future for you. I invent my own experiences, and whether they happen or not is irrelevant, because the picture in my mind is so clear, it feels as if it has and has already contributed to the makeup of my personality. What am I supposed to do then? Say, 'I am how I am because of something that played itself out in my brain, one moonlit night in December?' No, I'm going to say it happened, because that feels more accurate to me. And I said something last night that rang incredibly true. If something that happens to me or something that I do doesn't fit with the image I hold of myself, I will either distort it or discount it.

There. In one sentence: me. Isn't that fucking lovely? Any time now, Yoshi.

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