I found PacMan lying on his floor in Skid Row, electric Kool-Aid on tongue, third eye opened, goggles on, he was ready. He was in the middle of a five-day acid binge and had adopted the habits of a schizophrenic. He was catatonic and unresponsive to my questions. I left him there, it was late, and I was tired. I talked to him the next morning, and he said after that he would never do acid again.
The effects began slowly; as the boundaries in his mind were being broken, he began to see clearly. A three-headed dragon suddenly emerged and flew off the tapestry. It morphed into three different animals of obscure origin, unidentifiable to human eyes, but to PacMan they were beasts confined in the depths of his mind, set free by his sudden drug-induced awareness. He realized then that the acid trip had begun and decided to turn over, close his eyes and cover them with his right hand. The apparitions vanished never to be seen again by PacMan.
Eyes closed, his other senses became sharp, and he heard a voice, a voice that would prove to be a formidable opponent. The Voice was hollow and emitted an echo that surrounded the entire room making it impossible for PacMan to know where it was coming from. Through the darkness the Voice had an ominous presence in PacMan’s mind. It represented the chaos, the return to a primal state long outgrown by man, he became feral, once contained and controlled he was now free. He had entered the wild without knowing what he was looking for and now PacMan was lost in the horrors of his own mind. The Voice said:
“Skeletons sleeping in their beds
Unaware they may soon be dead
Are you the one they seek
To send their souls to eternal peace”