i have been insane in the membrane

I used to be a self-proclaimed chain-smoking alcoholic. Until I found my way through blogging about my manic depression, and my intricate escapades, my art, other worldly news, and anything and everything else that goes through my head. Some have said I have written articles on fascinating subjects, such as dealing with multiple cognitive distortions to my childhood obsession with inanimate objects. I have done this for the past few years, making development in the blogosphere, and I have no intentions on stopping; well, with a few exceptions: "...Only if I went completely crazy, so much so that I just couldn't handle it anymore, or if someone offered me a lot of money to stop doing it, or buys my blog. If one day I become famous and no longer have the time to do it anymore; I would probably still do it because I would be ten times more self-obsessed."

Sometimes you lose your mind and there’s nothing your friends can do about it or your lawyers, your loved ones or Emmanuel Lewis. You just do your thing and hope nobody gets hurt or you don't get the shit beat out of you. I’m writing this because I have lost my mind. I have been insane in the membrane.
Nothing in this is true so I can tell you about the time when someone slipped something in my drink. Someone escorted me to the beach and watched as I stared into the sunset. We each had a beer then a little elf bounded his way down the cliffs of isla vista and said

"Hi boys, would you like to have my magical balloon of love?"

I had never seen an elf before and there he was in his felt suit and big red nose and his basket of gold and pointy shoes with bells on the toes and he looked at us like a dog would, with a cocked head and blush on his cheeks. Were those whiskers?

The next thing I knew, I could see my body against the rocks down below, I could see the sea and the sunset. The beer did not work so much as dulling my visuals, digitizing the waves into pixilated forms of smoothness with digital colours of green, red, and blue. I relished the sand as my hand had released, watching as it turned into ashes like satellite feed from overseas in the middle of a night time firefight. But it was sunset. Just beige squares. Just black.