Everything takes on significance. Coincidence takes a hike for serendipity and synchronicity to take center state. The mind feels alive and active.
Listening to music puts you in a deep state of contemplation. You zone in on the lyrics, they become a part of you. The clothing you wear, the choices you make from day to day, it all adds to your sense of persona and character.
New life gets breathed into religious texts. The purposefully meaningful becomes the downright profound. Your sense of will is great, the enrichment of movies and TV manifests itself within your psyche. What was once meaningless spirals into a thread, an iteration on a continuing and intriguing story.
On the flip side…
Someone’s put cameras up in your house. Must be CIA. They’re tracking you becuase they believe you’re a peadophile psychopath and you’re beginning to believe it too.
The living room door you screwed off’s leaning against the wall, ready to be toppled in the direction of the door once it gets kicked through by your assailants. The pen knife next to the bed’s ready, open and decorated.
Key’s in the outside of the balcony door so you can lock yourself out there and climb up onto the roof, where you’ll leap across a gap and escape via the staircase leading to ground level.
You’re a prophet, sent from God. They know this, the CIA knows this and the Freemasons know this. It’s all going to end in a bloody wreck and there’s going to be a huge operation to sweep it all under the carpet.
They’ll probably torture you, tear your fingernails off with a pair of pliers. So you carry metal bowls balls around with you to crack a windscreen through and run when they pull up behind you.
In that pub and everyone looks like a gangster. Run away out of the window. Climb a cliff and fall off, catch yourself. Climb on top of a church roof in the rain. Sleep on the angle at the top of the roof. There’s no way they’ll hide the body.
Contemplate throwing yourself off a rooftop. I’ll die before they get to me…