“Everybody abstracts a different reality. When you come through a room, you abstract the reality you’re prepared to abstract. You pick up the signals that interest you. Your brain records them and organizes them.”
— Robert Anton Wilson
I’m strutting across Grand Central Station.
Everybody shows respect.
I’m hovering over vast alien architecture.
Strange futuristic factories. Huge!
There, I’m reunited with my comrades.
We meet a couple of French hookers.
There’s Michelle. She’s a plain one.
She’s yelling at me. “I don’t want you!”
There’s Augustine, a beauty.
“You nevair make ze compliments!”, she complains.
“But isn’t that obvious?”, I reply.
I’m on the bus to Hoboken Terminal.
There’s going to be breakfast for everybody.
The bully boy shows up again.
Once more he’s threatening to make the call.
I don’t care.
I’ve got a lot of friends here.
I’m discussing literature with Doctor Ralph.
He’s full of praise for the Guinness Book of Records.
Eventually the Russian girl arrives with a blister pack of Prozac.
I wake up.
I’m awake now.
The Sisters of Mercy – This Corrosion (1987)
Peter Bies © 2011