This title is featured in FIELDING.: a collection of short stories.
Astral projection is something I considered irrelevant until after I had already reached the age of 33. The concept alone seemed irrational and impossible and all the crusty, patchouli smelling information I received on the subject carried a grain of salt as I do not consider myself as open minded as those who claim to know about concepts such as astral projection. Crystals? Rituals? Paganism? Earthiness? All that nonsense can go suck an egg. After all, I am a rational man.
If you look up astral projection online even the digital presence of the matter is full of misinformation and a heavy dose of illegal substances. A whole generation is waking up to the ideas of reality being more complicated than simply what meets the eye and of course within that awakening drug use is considered a valid explanation for astral projection or sold as the only manner through which one can experience realities beyond our common, otherwise normal, experience of reality.
DMT is being widely used by persons of many ages, but especially the younger generations, to open up realities and dimensions of awareness which are supposed to be beyond the concepts of rational explanation, though those who regularly use DMT will claim that science explains how we can travel beyond the confines of standard consciousness. I am a skeptic with regard to the insistence that drugs are our only way to astral project.
While I would consider myself mentally available and open to the new-to-me notions of existence, I was raised quite conservative and religious. Catholic, to be specific, and while the stories of the saints are full of visions and wonders, signs and spiritualism are not my speed. I do not want to tamper with the realities of the cosmos even if they are tampering with me.
I do not want to believe there are realities beyond our reality, that demons and angels guide our thoughts, that inter-dimensionalism is anything more than a scientific field which can be proven through elaborate and incomprehensible tests. The notion of being anything more than myself as a physical embodiment is a construct cast in religious devotion and teachings which are both rigorously antithetical to what little I know about astral projection and as much in my past as it can be put.
Souls may or may not exist, from my perspective. Religion is an opium for the masses as well, forcing many different “souls” to come to common grounds which are then apparently leveraged against one another in a cycle of holy wars dating back to before the crusades. Religion, for all of the benefits at the individual level, tends to divide us amongst ourselves as a collective.
Religions throughout centuries have been co opted against docile masses as motivation for all manner of what actions and ends which I would imagine someone like Jesus Christ would disagree with or dismiss outright as unintended consequences of belief. While I have never met the man, I believe the teachings of Jesus as being completely against both the culture and religion in which I was raised. My personal belief is that all religions are equally valid in an infinite and ever expanding universe in which possibility is also infinite and ever expanding.
And so it is with astral projection that I can see a reality of the matter which is beyond religion. If such a thing be possible, religion may be a catalyst through which we may project but it is not a necessity. If inter-dimensional realities are experiential, they are thus without organized religion or belief. I have never unburdened myself of my Catholic belief, necessarily, but I believe if a god or gods exist then there is more than one path to their presence.
My problem with Catholicism is its exclusivity, its implied uniqueness, its requirement to have but one God and none other. The belief that the Protestants are any less valid than Catholics says more about the Catholics than the Protestants. The belief that the Muslims are inferior to the Christians stems directly from this ego-reinforcement in religious faith.
You are not better than your fellow man because of what you believe. Even in our beliefs, experiences are individual and thus therein lies your betterment. You are better than the next woman or man simply because you went through more to get where you are, or simply because you treat them better than yourself. Or simply because your understanding of your faith does not demonize or belittle the faith, or lack thereof, of someone else.
Organized religion, whether for the Catholic or the Pagan, is incredibly disjointing to society. It creates an exclusivity that puts yourself above someone else as you have a knowledge that the uneducated lack or may never attain. Religious affiliation is as damaging in reality as the claims of Illuminati or political cabals are portrayed as being.
You do not have to fear that there is an unseen force working against you when you know from experience that simply by not showing up to Mass every Sunday you have turned your back on the flock. You are less important than the indoctrinated. You are outside the fold. Did I astral project because I was open to the new? Or did it occur to my reality because I turned my back on the religious confines of the church?
Similar religious and cultural notions are always a moment's thought away for me. To be honest, what little I know about the belief systems or realities of the indigenous peoples of the North American continent prior to the arrival of Columbus make the most sense to me now in this new millennium.
A concept of one Great Spirit which we can experience simply through our senses seems more real and valid than Catholicism, Islam, Buddhism, or Paganism. While Christianity wrote the Natives off as savages because of their “religion”, the society built by the Christian pioneers were not exactly following the teachings of Jesus in the genocide that essentially eliminated the first people on the continent I now inhabit.
Christians are not better than Pagans, are not better than Muslims, are not better than Native Americans; they are simply more empirically successful. The means through which they reached such success have been white washed and destigmatized through religious practice. The reality of religion today is the same as it ever was: you did nothing wrong so long as you followed your religious beliefs. A Catholic is absolved every minute for their sins, and they often go right back out and commit the same sins again. Religion is a mask over our failure.
The Great Spirit concept seems open and acceptable to me, however. Everything in existence is connected; it is called energy. If a legitimate soul exists in each of us with self awareness, it stands to reason that there is some energy or aura to that which can be quantified either by myself or by those with more knowledge and experience than myself.
It further stands to reason that dogs, cats, trees, and rocks have each their own individual souls as well, through the reality that those entities are a combination of the same matter with which we and the stars consist. I look at religion like a detective looks at a crime scene; the simplest answer is usually the correct one.
The Greek and Roman beliefs that there are many gods over many matters makes just as much sense to me as the Christian belief that there is but one god and in effect but one path to heaven. But the idea that we are all part of the same universe, even though we know almost nothing about life beyond our atmosphere, is reasonably acceptable to me in its generality. I do not make offerings to The Great Spirit or celebrate Native rituals, though I would like to, I simply try to understand that where religion is involved it is arrogant and foolhardy to commit to your beliefs being the only correct reality.
In my experience, in an infinite universe with infinite possibilities, every religion is as equally possible and equally impossible. Where the concept of The Great Spirit works for me is in the understanding that is provided through scientific comprehension of existence. We do not know everything. I would imagine that with every question answered, more questions are then presented to us. I would imagine that where religion is involved, no one answer is correct either for the individual or the collective. Even in the Catholic faith there are inconsistencies of belief between the Pope and the choir boy, in addition to the inconsistencies of experience.
My concepts of The Great Spirit are that we are all on the same life raft out in the middle of an endless, cosmic ocean, so we should at the minimum try to get along with one another. Any faith which tells me not to get along with someone is in effect an illegitimate faith. There are sects in every faith which try to tell you that you are better than someone of a separate sect, and I would imagine the same is true both of what the Natives believe today and what they believed prior to 1492.
It is a very human thing to try to separate yourself from others. It is very normal the larger the group of separates becomes. But we are all equal in the end; death is the great level. No one knows what happens when we die and those who believe they do are the most foolish of us all.
What first I know about religion is what was instilled in me at an early age: guilt, shame, subjugation to an all-powerful but seemingly absentee being. What I secondly know is that there is more to reality than Catholic teachings. The Catholics believe, as most Christian sects do as well, that not only is Jesus the only way to heaven, but their particular brand of Jesus is even more exclusive. This belief system writes off thousands of years of religion predating Jesus including The Great Spirit conceptually. What I can tell you further from my experience is that neither Catholicism specifically nor Christianity generally would explain my personal religious experience.
Astral projection or out of body experiences seem to be considered the work of either the devil or the lord in Christian faiths. Any saint worthy of note seemed to have hallucinations and other-worldly experiences. Organized religion chalks these experiences up to either the hand of god or the influence of Satan. I would like to argue that both realities could be legitimate and false. There could be a god, there could be a devil, and Jesus may be as real as it gets, but arguably the experience of astral projection was around before Jesus was conceived and before humanity quantified good and evil as binary concepts.
If you put yourself out there in the world, and you garner understanding which cannot be explained away at Sunday Mass, you start to ponder on whether or not something like astral projection is neither good nor evil but simply something some of us are capable of doing.
On a fine spring day a few years back, I was returning from a bar district to my place of residence. It had been almost two years since I was unmedicated for my diagnosis of bipolar disorder and two years prior to my new diagnosis of schizoaffective bipolar disorder. I had enough of scientific thought processes which seemed to work within rigid, outdated theories with regard to mental health.
I had enough of taking medications which I could feel working to degrade my body, my personality, and my consciousness. I had recklessly tossed aside years of medical counseling with the firm belief that no medical professional could understand me but simply attempt to keep me under control. I had had enough of control.
In the park between the bar district and my place, I came upon two men playing guitar. They claimed they were celebrating their Christian faith by playing music for the lord, a notion I considered valid in their particular faith and worthy of appreciation both for the music and for the spirituality. I relayed my own beliefs and upbringing, aware that these men would then attempt to relate their religious beliefs to me.
But this is not what happened. These men took in my story and my beliefs and as so many of a religious openness will do, attempted to confide in me that I appeared to have a spirituality about me, even if it was not of their beliefs. They did not read to me from scripture, they did not ask me to attend their congregation, they simply validated my experience and parlayed that their belief allows for someone like me to struggle with the basic concept of faith in a higher power. They were not selling Jesus, they were not selling anything. They were playing guitar in celebration of existence. They were accepting and genuine in their faith; a rare experience indeed.
Our conversation covered my Catholic upbringing and trouble with the concept of Christianity as being the only true faith. We shared our understandings as separate but equal, and they in no way tried to talk down to me. I told them stories which confirm my understanding that we do not know everything either scientifically or religiously and they accepted my skepticism without judgment. So many Christians are incapable of this genuine reality of religion; faith comes from within, not from without.
When faith is forced upon an individual, rather than sought out by the individual, it is less complete. I would not say less valid, but certainly less confirmed. Being shuffled through the day to day of Catholic school simply indoctrinated me to a life I would eventually grow out of and then regret, then further discount as sheltered and limited in scope. There is so much to the world that was taught as taboo, wrong, or evil which I have had to accept as a part of reality. There is so much I missed out on and in this I find only further regret.
These two men filled me with a sense of pride, I must admit, in that they were simply sitting in a park praising their god while at the same time validating my lack of complacency on the notion of a higher power. They did not tell me they had all of the answers and they commended me on my openness in the face of so much distraction and disinformation in the world today. As I walked on I was filled with a heady sense of accomplishment. An aura of wonder took hold of me. I started thinking internally about the notion of religion in the face of science.
What do they know in the upper echelons of scientific discovery which would either validate the existence of a higher power, be it god, alien, or interdimensional being? At what point does an alien or interdimensional being with powers beyond our comprehension actually become a god? What about the universe is hidden from our limited knowledge? Do the people of today have godlike prowess when compared to the people of just a few hundred years ago?
The atomic bomb, for instance, is an apocalyptic nightmare comparable to the power of god in a biblical sense. We have the ability now to destroy ourselves as a species, and in turn the plethora of other species across the globe, in a matter of minutes. We have had this power for decades. Are we now gods?
In this wonder, in this thought, I only had but a few blocks to walk. Across a busy street South and into the humble neighborhood in which I was living. But as I approached the Southern end of the park, a wave of euphoria washed over me. The conversation brought upon the dreamy disconnection with reality that eventually became common with my life at this time. I began to sense the presence of something beyond myself. I began to feel the electricity of the cosmos flowing through me. In a flash I felt myself transcend my body proper and feel the energy of everything around me.
The brushing of grass under my feet reverberating up my legs. The birds chirping echoing inside my cranium. I felt at one with all of existence. I began to feel weightless. I must admit that I was not paying attention either left or right as I stepped out into the street to cross; I was too inside the sensation, like swimming through a void. A horn blast and the squealing of tires and I look up to see a minivan with a rather angry driver. I had stepped into the street without looking where I was going and the sensation immediately fleeted away. I was present again. I waved an apology and carried on across the street.
By the time I reached the other side of the road, my heady sensations returned. As I hopped up the curb, the grass below tingled my soles and up into my ankles and calves. The birds were as a chorus of melodies, each one speaking to me in song. The sun was so bright that I could not look up into the sky and the glare from cars along the roadway singed my vision.
A light breeze was more than just a light breeze, it was an urging to me to feel alive. I closed my eyes and continued walking, overcome by the world my senses were presenting me. Just a couple more blocks, really. I could make it if I cracked my eyelids from time to time. But as I carried on, my vision did not stay black. I started to sense my movement from a distance. I was inside myself but beside myself.
Half a block further and this sensation of being beside myself simply grows stronger. I have to open my eyes and refresh myself, remember where I am, but then I eagerly close my eyes again and begin to feel spirited away, lifted up beyond my walking feet. I am not separate from myself so much as expanded beyond my body. I am sensing the world around me anew in every breath.
I feel the connection from myself up into the sky toward the sun, pulled out from beyond myself. I feel the earth passing away below me. I open my eyes and narrowly avoid running a local official off the sidewalk as they approach City Hall, which I am passing. As my eyes open, I feel disoriented but within myself again, as if a great elastic pull has brought me back to earth. I apologize for not paying attention, walk on, and as soon as the coast is clear I close my eyes again to drift away. There are only a few more feet to the end of the block.
As I come to the next intersection I open my eyes to pay attention to my foot fell but as soon as I enter the roadway I can sense my path and see a clear line of travel ahead, and so I close my eyes again. Closed tight now, my mind is not even attempting to comprehend what I am experiencing but simply experience the moment. The waves of electricity pull me outward and upward. Subtly, my dark vision lightens and I am disoriented in a peaceful sense. Every step I take vibrates throughout myself and throughout the land below me, below the road.
Without knowing how, my awareness is of myself from above, my path still clear to the alley leading to my house. I am in such a state that I fear to open my eyes and lose the sensation. In this fear I find an urgency to keep my eyes closed. This urgency furthers the strength of my awareness, heightens the visions in my mind to a focus at which I can now see myself from above myself. I am approaching the alley, I know, and so with my eyes closed and my goofy gait I sense the gravel from the alley spilled out onto the asphalt roadway. Without opening my eyes I proceed left into the alley and East toward my driveway.
As I rotate left, so does my vision. Attempting to explain this vision is a mystery to me even now. Think of the stories of dying patients on an operating table watching the doctors work on their lifeless body below. But I am alive. I am behind myself and above myself, I can see myself from beyond. I am walking on, guided by my view of the world from above myself, like guiding my avatar across a digital landscape, like life has become an interactive, three-dimensional video game. This is, in effect, what my senses heightened to one spring day. I could see myself from outside myself.
As I rotate to turn left into the alley, my vision from above and behind pans left as well. While outside myself, I know I am still connected to myself. I can feel the energy connecting through the expansion from my physical presence to my conscious self above and beyond. As soon as I realize this is happening to me, I open my eyes and immediately the vision is gone. I snap back into myself and feel a lethargic wave of loss. My mind tells me to push on and I continue along the gravel of the alley. For good measure, I close my eyes yet again and drift above myself.
I can see down into the back yards and atop the roofs of sheds and cars dotting the alley. I can witness myself approaching my driveway behind the house. Without opening my eyes, I can turn right into the driveway and approach the rear of my house. Disoriented, I open my eyes and walk into the house. In a weighted exhaustion, I collapse onto my couch and proceed to sleep into the evening.
College nights, years before, take on a surreal essence upon reflection. Most nights I studied or watched movies with my fraternity brothers, rarely venturing onto a date with someone of the opposite gender. But on the nights I drank, I drank for a purpose. I drank to blank my mind. I drank to erase my memory. I drank not to exceed the expectations of my alcohol-enabled cohorts, though I often did, but I drank to sleep soundly.
If I recall a sober night in college, I recall restless attempts at sleep, up until all hours unable to find rest, rolling and tumbling alone in my bed, too hot, too cold. Alone with my mind. My thoughts were pessimistic or outright sadistic in nature. I saw no point to college or life in general. I was lost and had no one to turn to. On the nights I drank, however, I found myself detaching from reality.
One night in particular, I had come down with the flu, or pneumonia, or some other potentially dangerous illness. All of my roommates had tickets to the big game between our alma mater and the in-state rivals. We were a long shot but we were hoping for change as a school. My friends took off as the sun was setting on a late winter day and I was left alone with my fever and my pessimism not just about the game but about reality. At some point I had called my parents and informed them that I had been feeling ill and, though they were going to the game, they told me to reach out if I needed anything.
I sat down on the couch in the bungalow living room wrapped in a blanket, coughing and sweating into the material in which I was encased. I found myself excited as the game progressed, at least mentally, but it took all of my effort to stay attentive and aware of the score, even though we were competing and at times in the lead. Though we ended up defeating the evil empire of college basketball in the state of Kansas that night, I recall an entirely different experience altogether.
When I awoke the next day I was in my bed up a flight of stairs with no recollection as to how I made it to rest. The only thought in my mind was of the dream I had which felt disjointed and disorienting. In the dream I see myself from above myself, as if I was able to look down through the roof of the house and observe my sickly essence. Immediately, there is a rapped noise at the door and when no one answered my parents let themselves in to check on me. I see this too from above.
They walk toward my huddled body, I imagine only shortly after the win and the game letting out, and they check to make sure I am ok. I clearly am not, but they do not panic. One of them walks to the kitchen and pours a glass of water, the other attempts to wake me from my fever dream. With much effort they get me to sit up and drink some water.
My mother places the back of her hand on my forehead and she seems to determine I have a fever. I drink the water. From above, I see them help me up and walk me begrudgingly up the stairs to my room. I see myself climb the stairs, my mother in front and my father in back, or vice versa, and they lower me down onto my mattress. There the dream ends. I was here, but I was also there.
Presented with inexplicable experiences, I have continuously questioned my beliefs in the face of new information. Nothing about my Catholic upbringing prepared me for hallucinations, out-of-body experiences, or astral projection. Nothing about life makes much sense, but the idea that I often see myself from above myself while in a medically dangerous state tends to call into question what the nature of reality is really all about. I was taught math, history, and religion from a private school perspective. I am pretty sure it is against policy for teachers at these sorts of schools to discuss mythic subjects.
But then there are the saints of the Christian traditions. Many of them beheld visions of signs and wonders. Many of them communed regularly with beings of a higher level. And many of them went down in history as having supernatural ability, even if ordained by God. These saintly issues were always presented to our eager minds as Of God, with no mention of potential mental health symptoms.
Never did we discuss that maybe the saints had chemical imbalances of the nervous system. Never were they questioned or written off as anything but spiritual. But what is spiritual? It is spiritual to question the order of things, to question your beliefs, or even your faith. There is even spirituality to scientific endeavors. But what is unanswered by science is often explained away as simply the unknown power of god.
With regard to astral projection, I have more questions than answers. Do these things only happen to the mentally deficient, as we are supposed to believe, or are we each capable of these achievements of the mind? If the science cannot fully answer my queries, must I rest my mind on religion? Is the nature of faith simply for me to find a common understanding between the science and the belief? I ponder these issues as often as I am awake, and I experience these surreal visions most often when I sleep. Is my mind truly less-than, or is it more-than? Am I more capable than most, at least to spiritual issues, and in our modern times do we simply write these issues off as symptoms of a mental illness? Religiously inclined persons of my community and others are still debating these notions both internally and amongst themselves. Science can placate the matter, but it cannot be defined.
The idea of questioning your beliefs is common for most people of a religious bent. If we are to have faith, we must question that faith for it to be valid. We must challenge our faith, and in turn, ourselves, or else what strength does the faith hold. My personal experience with religion is confused and disjointed and I do not claim allegiance to any one faith or the other, though I am a baptized and confirmed Catholic.
Nothing about my Catholic upbringing prepared me for astral projection, save the stories of the saints. In the accounts of the Saints we are informed of the reality through which God works in mysterious ways. Many of the saints were further outcast and marginalized members of society working against the rule of the times, be it the Roman Empire or governorships of foreign lands in which the saints inserted themselves.
In religious terms, astral projection or some similar otherworldly visions are commonplace, just not recently. The Book Of Revelation, for example, could be considered a hallucinatory account by today’s standards. The Hindu faiths have specific terms, such as Savikalpa Samadhi, for personal detachment from the Self and a sense of connection with the entirety of existence.
Any religious figure you have ever read about has, in their background, some sort of disconnection with reality which would today be considered an indication of a mental health issue. To state that all religions are founded and built upon the backs of rational, sober persons would be incorrect.
I awoke some time later with the realization that I did not understand what was happening. A persistent voice in my head, in a tone I recognized as my own, confirmed that I have this power, this ability beyond myself. This is something people are capable of doing. Accept your role in the universe and get on board with the revolution. Find yourself now. This is the world you inhabit so make the most of it. And I am laying on my couch, drooling into the pillow, sweating a bit and incoherent. I am not under the influence of narcotics, save the occasional cigarette.
Can you do this? Are you allowed this freedom? Do you believe? There are no religious overtones, but the concept seems entirely spiritual and otherworldly to me even now. Beyond the pale of rational thought, I had become broadcast outside my being. I had transcended my body proper. My doubt and confusion would not abate, but the confidence of the voices in my head would not subside either.
Believe in yourself, believe in this reality - beyond reality. Levitate your consciousness. And so I sit up in an empty room with nothing to distract from my thoughts. I sit upright alone on my couch with a willingness to try something beyond myself. Are you capable of being more than just yourself here and now?
I close my eyes and the sounds outside the window of passing cars fade away. There is no music, though I have a radio, but I am alone with my thoughts. Calm yourself. Deep breaths. Find your center…whatever that means. Calm. Black. Calm. Easy. Calm. Believe. And suddenly my vision is as above myself, sitting on my couch, reclining against pillows. I am beyond the confines of my physical body. I am beyond the norm. I am beyond. Above myself, as if hovering, as if witnessing myself. Spiritual levitation. You can do this.
Pan out. Zoom out. Rise above. And I retract through the limits of the house, above the roofline, and suddenly I am gone. Suddenly I am above the house and below I see only the roof. Further, I see the yard, and then the back yard, and then my car. Keep going. There is a wind stirring. There is a change in the air. A swirling of local sights and sounds, a cacophony of limitless exploration. I am still looking directly down. I am still in the house, but I am not. Pan out. Zoom out. And now I can see the whole block. All the neighboring houses and their cars, a dog barking two houses to the West. No questions, no answers, just pulling away from myself.
And now I am above the neighborhood. City Hall above, with City Park just beyond. A major thoroughfare below. Mid-century suburban sprawl to my left and right, but from above, and I am pulling away. I am levitating, spiritually. And now the city lights reflecting off of the roadways fills my vision. The lights of the many houses, neighborhoods, developments, cars passing along their way. I am seeing my town from a perspective I could not before or again appreciate. Then the hills and valleys, then the farmlands, then the neighboring towns. I am above it all. I am pulling away from it all. I am zooming out.
My peripheral is of the towns adjacent, their lights connected to my town, my neighborhood, my home, by the many vehicles passing between them. I am seeing it all and I am beyond it, appreciating it unintentionally but fully. There is no music or noise, save the occasional honk or dog bark.
Further, into the hillsides there are coyotes howling toward the moon they will never understand but in that lack of understanding further appreciation than we shall remember from days of our youth before the mysteries explained. Checking in, I now have doubt. The sounds reverberating from a distance remind me that the land I have left is for me and that whatever voyage I am embarking on is unholy and doomed. I feel shame, I feel guilt.
Further out, I see the lights of the state capitol, Topeka to my right. Further, Wichita below. And further, Kansas City beyond Lawrence, beyond Topeka. A great darkness to my left and I realize there is little in the way of civilization between my town and Denver, though there is the occasional light from the humble towns as a faint star in the night sky. I am above, I am beyond.
The Rocky Mountains to my left now, blocking the setting sun off the Western seaboard. The lights of the East Coast now are stronger than the West as it is early after sunset in the Midwest. These mountains on my left side take so much from us in the way of sunlight. Further, I now see both oceans beyond our continent, further I become afraid. With what am I meddling? Who is allowed this ability? This capability? This vision? Am I cursed to float upward and outward forever?
And now the entirety of the Western Hemisphere, with the Mexican peninsula connecting North America to South America, and the Sun to my left burning against the progress of the night, retreating away from me. I am panicking now. How to turn this off? How to turn this around? I attempt to look down at myself and see nothing of a physical form. I attempt to open my eyes but only now do I realize this is a vision I cannot turn off. Only now do I realize that I cannot stop what I have begun.
And suddenly I begin to rotate, my vision begins to ease to the left, toward the sun. Then beyond, past the sun, I am rotating. I am moving into the stars. And I realize I cannot stop this rotation. The only place I have ever known is beyond my grasp. The only lands I have ever walked are miles below me now. I am beyond the pale.
I am still breathing, at least back in the house, but I am beyond the need for breath. I am beyond need. I am beyond. And now the stars are my only guide. I remember not the constellations, I remember not my lessons in planets, but from this perspective you can truly see it all. The earth, my home, now behind me. The stars are my forward goal. I am drifting listlessly through the cosmos.
I hear now no sounds of dogs or cars or any other indication or Earth. I am cosmic. I am overwhelmed. I am beyond panic. I am existence and existence is me. My eyes are closed but my vision is infinite. These stars do not guide or comfort, they simply are, and I simply am, and that is that. Infinite blackness enshrouds and I am beyond consciousness. I awake upright on the couch the next morning.
