obliterated.

I will always be amazed at the mind's incredible capacity to lie to itself. I mean, really. It's absolutely amazing. If it doesn't want to do or face something difficult, it can merely sidestep the issue by dreaming up a world in which its problems don't exist. Just concoct a pretty new list of truths, of laws to operate under, and voila! You have a lovely new problem-free world. But here's the paradox: in order for that world to blossom, the mind has to convince itself that this it is real beyond a shadow of a doubt. As impossible as it seems, I think it happens far more often than any of us would like to admit. Absurd.

Of course, wandering around operating under such pretenses causes problems. It's like denying the existence of gravity. No matter how strongly you believe you can fly, you're going to sink right back down to earth every time you step off that roof.

These pretty fantasy worlds can last for a while, but eventually we're going to run into something that our laws can't reconcile. Our minds may be able to overlook a couple of these contradictions, skilled little fabricators that they are, but there's always going to be that one undeniable truth that crashes through our consciousness and flattens our make-believe world. It's like "Somewhere in Time." That tiny copper coin tore down his entire universe.

For me, it was a letter. An atom bomb waiting in my mailbox.

Currently I find myself sitting in the aftermath of the explosion. Dazedly wrenching myself from the rubble, trying hard to get my bearings. So far so good, I think... I just hope I handle it better than Christopher Reeve.

I'd much rather assimilate to reality than... ya know... die. Wish me luck...