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2.26.2012
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This insect creature, my newly recognized mentor, this so-called muse of mine, this big fat bug and I sit side by side on a park bench and communicate through mental telepathy. His talent for shaping mental activity is so good that he makes up my mind for me.
There must be an organ for telepathy in our brains, he conjectures, since we can read each other's, but this region of the brain has either evolved only primitively in humans or is, at best, atrophied from lack of use. I read his thoughts very clearly because, as he thinks, they are projected precisely at me. My thoughts, I learn, are chaotic and scattered, not sent in any specific direction. No surprise there.
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