Dear Diary,
     Had a party today.

Dec. 1 (100 mg)
     Patient showed recognition of his environment for approx. 20 sec.

Dear Diary,
     Had a party today.

Dec. 2 (200 mg)
     Patient became fully conscious. Asked me: "Where am I?" and "How did I get here?" Lapsed into present state after approx. 45 sec.

Dear Diary,
     Had a party today. I opened up the big deck doors out of the dining room.

Dec. 3 (300 mg)
     Patient maintained contact for approx. 50 sec. Asked me: "Where am I?"
Replied: in my office, in building, city, country, planet, solar system, galaxy, universe
"Who are you?" Became suddenly agitated, experienced seizure, and lost contact.

Dear Diary,
     Had a party today. Invited everyone. I opened up the big deck doors out of the dining room. The sunset sky was beautiful. Shaking the hands of his constituency. He brought the LSD just for fun. The house and yard rang with the laughter of children of all ages.

     "Where am I?"
     "In my office."
     "How did I get here?"
     "Perhaps you could tell me?"
     "I don't know...."
     "Do you remember being here before?"
     " I don't-no, I don't remember anything like this."
     "What is the last thing you remember?"
     "I was at home...no, I remember now, I was in my laboratory, no, well...."
     "Take your time."
     "I wasn't doing any particular thing, as far as I can tell."
     "Where is 'home'?"
     "The big house, on the hill."
     "Address?"
     "1000 Maple Rd."
     "City?"
     "What?"      "Which city do you live in?"
     "You imply the existence of multiple cities?"
     "What?"
     "If I were to ask you which universe you lived in, you would necessarily tell me that you did not live in a universe, but rather in THE universe."
     "Of course. So...you are telling me that the city you live in-"
     "Community. I live in the community."
     "This community is not one of a set of objects, but rather, is the set of objects."
     "Yes."     
     "Where do you believe you are now?"
     "You told me. I am in your office."
     "Is this office part of the universe?"
     "I don't know."
     "Is it part of your community?"
     "I don't believe so. No, it isn't."
     "How-"

Dec. 4 (400 mg)
     Patient conversed with me for approx. 1 min. 50 sec.
Does not remember previous sessions. Cannot determine specific end to memories. Believes he lives at 1000 Maple Rd. within a community that is the limit of his reality.
     Has at least some scientific knowledge. Could not identify office as reality. Knew that office was not in his 'community'. Experienced seizure and lost contact.

Dear Diary,
     Had a party today. Invited everyone in the valley. I opened up the big deck doors out of the dining room. Kelly filled the tables up with food: finger sandwiches, egg salad, a little caviar, olives, that gooey carrot and raisin dish that Kelly makes so well, a few bottles of my best wine, the works. The sunset sky was a beautiful green yellow. The guests sat at tables and watched the sky, talked, and danced to the sitar and the trumpet.
     The mayor came, with his pot belly and rosy cheeks, shaking the hands of his constituency. The hippie was there, and he brought the LSD just for fun. Bigfoot came, his mane shining in the twilight and the Dolphin man brought his Elfin cousins. The waitress from the Coffee La Shop Pomme Du Pin came with the shaman, his silvery hair and magic beads complimenting her pink dress and hairnet. The sweet old lady next door brought dessert, with the help of the flourescent-trunked local superhero. The paper boy scout dutifully attended, yukking it up with that retired pirate, what was the name of his parrot? The eccentric artist and the reclusive writer shared secrets and systems. The wizard in his purple robes, the basketball star and his purple tank top dribbled by. Tommy told his teacher, and the dear lady declared a school holiday, so all the kids could come to Tommy's house for the party. All the little kids were delighted with the exquisite griffin who entertained them, and the house rang with the laughter of children of all ages.
     But I haven't been. Honest.

     "What? Am I here again?"
     "You remember being here before?"
     "Yes. We talked about where I was from."
     " That's right."
     "What is this place?"
     "This is where I conduct my work."
     "What do you do?"
     "I talk to people like you."
     "What is so special about me?"
     "You are not the same as other people here."
     "Why is that?"
     "That is what I am trying to determine."
     "What is this-thing-behind me?"
     "That is a-machine- that allows me to see your vital signs. Brain activity, heartbeat, respiration, that sort of stuff."
     "So everything that goes on in my body and mind is known to you."
     "Essentially, yes."
     "Are there many people like me here?"
     "No."
     "Are there other people like you?"
     "Yes. Many."
     "Why?"
     "Why what?"
     "Why are there many people in your world?"
     "We work together for the common good."
     "You cannot see their vital signs?"
     "No. But I don't see how that has anything to do with-"
     "I have memories of living in a world like yours. They are old memories. Some are older than those of when I went to live in the community."
     "What were they?"
     "They were of a world like yours-where no one could see the 'vital signs'. It was unstable. I had to leave!"
     "You went to the community."
     "Yes."
     "What do you mean, 'unstable'?"
     "In every world, there are rules. In that world, as in this, the rules are bad."
     "I see. Who makes these rules?"
     "Whoever makes the world."
     "How are these rules 'bad'?"
     "They are...they're just bad."
     "If the 'rules' here are 'bad' and you had to leave that world because the 'rules' were 'bad', how can you stay here?"
     "Well-"

Dec. 5 (500 mg)
     Patient remained conscious for approx. 2 min. 20 sec. Inquired about my job, purpose, medical equip.. Interested in the fact that I could know everything about his vital signs. Memories of reality: before he "went to the community." Left reality because reality was "bad". Seems to seizure when I bring about the fact that his "world" is not the same as reality. However, he can state the fact without consequence.

Dear Diary,
     Had a party today. Invited everyone in the valley. I opened up the big deck doors out of the dining room. Kelly filled the tables up with food: finger sandwiches, egg salad, a little caviar, olives, that gooey carrot and raisin dish that Kelly makes so well, a few bottles of my best wine, the works. The sunset sky was a beautiful green yellow. The guests sat at tables and watched the sky, talked, and danced to the sitar and the trumpet.
     The mayor couldn't come. The hippie was there, and he brought the LSD just for fun. Bigfoot came, his mane shining in the twilight and the Dolphin man brought his Elfin cousins. The waitress from the Coffee La Shop Pomme Du Pin came with the shaman, his silvery hair and magic beads complimenting her pink dress and hairnet. The sweet old lady next door brought dessert, with the help of the flourescent-trunked local superhero. The paper boy scout dutifully attended, yukking it up with that retired pirate, what was the name of his parrot? The eccentric artist and the reclusive writer shared secrets and systems. The wizard in his purple robes, the basketball star and his purple tank top dribbled by. Tommy told his teacher, and the dear lady declared a school holiday, so all the kids could come to Tommy's house for the party. All the little kids were delighted with the exquisite griffin who entertained them, and the house rang with the laughter of children of all ages.
     But I didn't. No matter what the mayor says, I didn't. Honest.

     "Oh. I'm back again, eh?"
     "Yes you are. However, before we begin, I'd like to remind you that this universe is reality, and there are rules here. This is not your universe."
     "Oh...okay-"

Dec. 6 (600 mg)
     When patient became conscious, I immediately reminded him that he was in reality not his community. He seizured immediately. I believe that the medicine at this strength is sufficient only to bring the patient out of his comatose state.

Dear Diary,
     Had a party today. Invited everyone in the valley. I opened up the big deck doors out of the dining room. Kelly filled the tables up with food: finger sandwiches, egg salad, a little caviar, olives, that gooey carrot and raisin dish that Kelly makes so well, a few bottles of my best wine, the works. The sunset sky was a beautiful green yellow. The guests sat at tables and watched the sky, talked, and danced to the sitar and the trumpet.
     The hippie was there, and he brought the LSD just for fun. Bigfoot came, his mane shining in the twilight and the Dolphin man brought his Elfin cousins. The waitress from the Coffee La Shop Pomme Du Pin came with the shaman, his silvery hair and magic beads complimenting her pink dress and hairnet. The sweet old lady next door brought dessert, with the help of the flourescent-trunked local superhero. The paper boy scout dutifully attended, yukking it up with that retired pirate, what was the name of his parrot? The eccentric artist and the reclusive writer shared secrets and systems. The wizard in his purple robes, the basketball star and his purple tank top dribbled by. Tommy told his teacher, and the dear lady declared a school holiday, so all the kids could come to Tommy's house for the party. All the little kids were delighted with the exquisite griffin who entertained them, and the house rang with the laughter of children of all ages.
     The mayor wouldn't come... he says I've been breaking the rules. He claims that I did not stay in the community all of the time. But I didn't. How could I leave, and where could I go? No matter what the mayor says, I didn't. Honest.

     "Again I find myself in your office. Why? What is it that you want from me? Can't you just leave me alone?"
     "No, I'm afraid I can't."
     "Why not?"
     "You see, here, in my world, everyone works together. However, you do not. See that chair you are sitting in?"
     "Yes. Hmmm. Why does it have wheels?"
     "Because most of the time, except when you are here, in my office, you are unconscious. We have to take care of you, and that takes time and money. If we could get you to be like the rest of us, we wouldn't have to take care of you."
     "Why do you take care of me now?"
     "Because if we didn't, you would die."
     "But if I died here, I would live forever in the community. It is not necessary for you to keep me alive here."
     "Why don't you wish to live here?"
     "'Cause it's stupid."
     "Why is it stupid?"
     "This world is stupid because the rules are stupid. Actually, just one rule."
     "Which rule is this one stupid rule?"
     "Godel's theorem, of course. It's stupid."
     "Godel's theorem, Godel's theorem....Hmmm. It says here: Kurt Godel...Godel's proof, 1931 AD....pheeeew. Proof that any logical system can generate statements that are unprovable."
     "Yes, that's the one. But it's stupid."
     "Well, we all know that's true. How can you say it's stupid?"
     "How can anything exist like that? That leads to a total destruction of all logic."
     "Aaaand?"
     "It just means that nothing's for sure, you know? Nothing's defined. Nothing's real here."
     "So?"
     "So it's stupid. It's a stupid world. You can't know everything. That's stupid."
     "Well, okay. Whatever you say."
     "It's just stupid."
     "Okay."