Stories
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Early on when it became full blown it was really strong. If I turned on Seinfeld at night, it was an episode which was exactly parallel to what had happened that day, and the Seinfelds were not being shown in their original order. Everything in the media was in tandem. I was working at this time, worked alone and no media.
I always worked in silence. But in the evening at home, I just shut down for two weeks, no TV, no radio. The synchronicity was too intense. I read Robert Lewis Stevenson's, Kidnapped, not for the first time. Course this kind of intensity is when it is most fun and amazing, but I couldn't take it. The episode began on my return from a two week backpacking trip alone and a week at a poser spot in the Sierras. But this was the second time, the first being about nineteen seventy-one. I did a lot better this second time around. Still there were areas I could have done better, but why be superhuman.
If one believes that everything they say and do is known by most everyone, then the pressure is relentless, to think appropriately to powers with the potential to wield violence against one. An integrity of conviction meant that most everyday
leaving the house, I may have thought I might be killed. I had stayed in once, the first episode for three days, but learned that is catastrophe, as when one goes out
and nothing happens, but staying inside one is sure it would have, leading to
ever more malevolent fantasies and paranoia. My rule was I went out everyday.
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