Game on. I chug. I continue chugging even after I know I¶ve had enough, and even after I feel like I¶m going to throw up with the liquid simmering inside of my stomach like a volcanic eruption. I don¶t want to drink this, but I don¶t have a choice. If I don¶t drink this liquid right now, I lose my identity forever. Dante walks away from me before I can finish. I have no choice but to chug asquickly as possible and chase after him. The ground that once pulled my legs down hasreleased their grip on me, and suddenly I am on ice trying to run like a penguin. I slip all over the place and struggle to keep my balance, constantly fighting the forces of nature. I catch up with Dante around the back of the house, and he¶s waiting in line for something.There¶s a man there, holding his hand out. He is bald and smells like cheese witha goatee that¶s dated and full of crumbs. I hate him but I don¶t have a choice in avoiding him. He asks to see my identification. I hand him the empty bottle and fall over. My eyes seal shut, and for a moment I contemplate playing dead. If he¶s a bouncer, he can¶t kick me out because I¶m already gone. He¶ll have to call the hospital, and I¶ll get my get out of jail free card for playing possum. But it doesn¶t work that way. My brain stops thinking. All thought shuts down. The machines inside my bodycease function. I suddenly fight to hang on but can¶t for much longer. I know that I screwed up, but there¶s no turning back now. The ground below me grows lips that expand as a tongue made of maggots rolls out from the ground and scoops me up like alick off of an ice cream cone. I don¶t try to fight it. I made my bed, and it¶s time to die init.
With the radio off he has no choice but to listen to the sound of the windwhipping by the car as they past each telephone pole, street sign, and tree. Julie does notsay much, keeping her focus on the road. He should be able to listen to his thoughts, buthis mind is frantic. There is an information speedway going right through his thought process, making even the simplest of observations impossible to deal with. He misses thedays when he could have his mind clear, when words did not charge through senselesslylike they were trying to play red rover with his thoughts. He used to be able to take a ridein a car and not think about anything. Now all he can think about is useless nothings.³We should go out to eat,´ Julie says spontaneously, nonchalantly.