I saw the fear in Andrew’s face when normally one would describe him as an energetic monster. It was his first time to go to a carnival, only eight years old. His fear subdued him into a quieter child. When talking to him, I noticed his eyes looking elsewhere, almost sleepy. He also took the fact that he was not tall enough for many of the rides very well.

Andrew: I saw you on Spin Out.
Alfred: Really?
Andrew: Yup, and your hair went like this:

Andrew stepped on the bench next to us then raised my hair within his hands.

I have the same feeling of dread when someone asks me to go drinking with them at some party as I do when someone asks me to go to the amusement park. I’ve thought it out, and I believe the correlation lies within the fact the both drinking alcohol and amusement park rides takes me out of my mental lucidity. Both make me nauseous, and if the alcohol or ride is particularly bad, I will suffer from headaches. So I could say that I do not like to be outside of my comfort zone. I like to be tucked away, and safe. This is not true either. I’ve done many a crazy stunt in my life, which has lead to my near death on one occasion, and to the hospital on other occasions. I believe a more accurate analysis of my neurosis is that when I’m tussling with the Rochester Police or falling of cliffs, I am extremely lucid. Lucidity seems to be everything to me. I hate to be blocked in the head. I keeps me from writing. It’s as simple as that, thus I could never be a beatnik writer. Give me a choice between a block in my head or constipation and I will easily choose constipation. Give me a choice between alcohol or a amusement park ride and I would answer, “I’m waiting for an alcohol ride to come out so I don’t need to make a choice, or wait. I could drink alcohol while riding an amusement park ride.” Does anyone want to sit next to me?