I carried my shattered mind north with the intent of marketing huge numbers of processes that popped up almost daily, whether I was writing or not. Manuscripts went out in the mail and thin envelopes returned. My mind became more fragile as my sense of concrete reality became more distorted. Nothing I did connected with people who were supposed to become clients. Instead, I got farther out there and stayed isolated in a little cottage on the property of the people who invited me to live with them and enhance their financial intake. These relationships flamed out, and when the opportunity arose to leave, I took it, even though I was skateboarding down the street on a thinly worn credit card. The transition from cosmic delirium to school teacher was a painful experience. As a substitute teacher, I rarely overcame the blankness that had overcome my intellect, and as a result was not ready to return to classroom teaching. After returning home from school and people who had no idea, I would evaporate into godspace as a retreat and restore my connection with the cosmic beings who had no resonance with the world my body had to walk in. Their agenda did not take into account the suffering inherent in the human condition. It was a war. Concrete vs cosmic reality. Staying focused to find a job and lifting off from this hell as soon as possible at the end of the day. Eventually the job came. Condensing back into walking and talking human being took years.
