Tonight, after a long day of work, I went to Electric Larryland. I still go once a week if I’m in town; I can’t imagine ever stopping. I didn’t realize how out of control I was until I lay down, and Larry took my pulse. I could feel it ricketing and rocketing around.
He put needles in new places; I felt pinned to the chair, and it was easy to sink as deeply into time and space as I liked. I found myself moving effortlessly through time; I stopped in 1971, 72, and 73… and there didn’t seem to be anything that needed doing or examining, I relaxed on the floors of my old rooms and listened to music.
There was no time, no pressure, nothing I had to think about or worry about; I could stay as long as I liked in each place. I took hours and hours, and really soaked up my old bedrooms, really looked at my old records, my posters, the books on my shelf. It felt wonderful, and I didn’t have any questions. I didn’t have any worries. I wasn’t in charge of anything. It was heaven, but also easy to come back to 2014, which is pretty fucking beautiful as well.