I talk other people down from trips now and then. It’s always tedious but I enjoy feeling wise and necessary. Eventually I try some acid myself: it’s a bit of a let down: or a relief. The furniture stays just furniture and so on. Some heightened, sharpened colours. Every traffic sound on the way to a Logic lecture in the morning is adamantine. In the lecture I now suddenly understand everything about logic and its algebraic conundrums. It’s a revelation: but by lunchtime it’s all a blur again, and I leave it there, in the mist, with the other hallucinogens.