Timothy Leary – High Priest

Joan came over and curled up in my arms and said she felt wonderful and how glad she was that I was there to take care of her.

That left poor O'Donell alone. In the molecular structure of the psychedelic group the lone atom whirls out of orbit. He was the only one not going along with the happy spirit. Face black with frown and wild-eye look. He was engaged to a girl in Seattle and missing her a lot and sick with love and loneliness and worry about the romance and he seemed to be falling apart under the mushrooms.

Everything gets intensified - lover or loneliness.

O'Donell was sitting next to me on the couch muttering and letting out weird laughs. He turned to us and smiled an evil sort of smile and spit on the rug. Now under any circumstances this is a show-stopper, the sudden violent act smashing through the social fabric. But under mushrooms shock comes even stronger. Underwater calm and bliss shattered by rude spit.

He had our attention all right. Our eyes were riveted to him as he reached down and took the package of cigarettes. He began to shake the package so that the white cylinders fell into a crazy pile on the coffee table. Again, Iike the spit, it was nothing more than a slight eccentric gesture but sent a creepy chill running through me.

O'Donell turned to me with the weird grin.  Order. Order. Down with order. Again I felt the chill. Everything was going so mellow and smooth and the mushroom peace was so fine that I was surprised to see O'Donell getting worked up. Nothing seemed important at the moment except Ioving calm. The idea that people worked themselves up, worrying about things, little things especially, was amusing. O'Donell,  I said,  it's all great.  I had a girl and he didn’t. He Iooked at me strangely and took his fist and pounded it in his hand and kept twisting it and turning his fist in his hand .  Then he got up and walked to the bathroom and I could hear him urinating.