While riding his bike to the Thai restaurant where he had agreed to meet them, he suddenly stopped and got off his bike, feeling nothing but the freshly paved road under his feet. How long had he been feeling this way? Was it forever? Was he slowly boiling to death on the hot asphalt?

He remembers telling her, how she just lay on the bathroom floor, the heated floor tiles now cold, and cried: “I don’t understand how this could happen,” over and over again.

1. J Spaceman, can you feel the exhilaration and the rapture of creation? 2. All I feel is the wall of noise rushing over me. 3. I like it.

Drunk at the train station he didn’t feel like writing, he felt like throwing it all away, and learning to surf, staring out at lonely, empty beaches on the edge of the world, smelling the salt in the air, and getting held under by currents, communing with death, and then bursting through, back to the surface, back to life.