I am experiencing what Freud so eloquently terms the oceanic feeling. It is a great pressure in the chest. Right now, the cosmos sends out its sparks and my body is the very fuse that runs through it. Everything is swirling, everything is different-colored and many-sided. There are tides, ebbings, flowings, eddies. All that is old, all that has been suffocating me, has been washed away, or has gone underwater, or has been torn asunder, making room for new visions, new thoughts, new epiphanies, bright shards on the beach consisting of new glass. This feeling is its own kind of suffocation, though I think that this is what life is for. What had been dimly perceptible or shrouded in fog can now be seen in all its triumphant glory, accompanied as if by a timpani of exultation and ecstasy. Up there in the clouds is a heavenly throne. It is waiting for me.