January 31st, 1972
[continued]
My last mescaline experience left me with a good deal of doubt concerning my basic ability to cope with and work in that robot-controlled world. As I write this my words become false. Even now. Now even before they hit the paper I’m aware of this now. Nothing I write could not be false.
So, good night–
I shall return in honesty tomorrow.
Goodbye January.
Goodbye the last month, full month I’ll ever be twenty years old in. Goodbye and goodbye.
Goodnight.