"What did you call me?"

"Nothing, sane boy."

Haight street always had a magical quality to it. Many a night in the psychiatric ward he closed his eyes and walked down these streets. As he kept on walking he saw his dream visions superimposed over his retinal vision. It often became difficult to differentiate between them. At times, space seemed to warp itself around him which caused the sidewalk to remind him of the signs he remembered from his childhood vacations in Mexico: curvas peligrosas. He smiled as he saw life through Picasso's eyes. Tom’s vision was not the only one of his senses skewed, Each of his footfalls was another pounding on his ears. "I feel like Harrison Bergeron." He autolamented.

The voice replied, "I know you do."

The strange shape like people kept on melting by him as he waded with and against their tides. Tom crossed Haight when he reached the Ben and Jerry’s. A long hair with a pierced nose offered him some, "Lysergics?"

"No thank you..." Said Tom as we walked by, "..I'm already past there."

As a couple in their mid twenties kissed each other good-bye an angry voice shouted from one of the apartments on the second floor of the shops, "Hey buddy, take it to a room!" The couple-man spun around angrily and began cursing at the voice from above. "Honey." Said the couple-woman in a pacifying voice as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

She looked the figure on the balcony up and down in an obvious glance then responded, "How about yours?" as she started across the street with her boyfriend sulking as he followed her. The couple pushed past Tom as they went to the door where the angry voice from above was waiting. As he walked past the bookstore, a book in the showcase demanded his attention.

"No. Please not that. Not me"

Tom went in, and after a few minutes left with a large black book. Gripping the book closely, he walked around the corner and sat down on the sidewalk. After staring at the cover for a few minutes, he put down the book, and with a tear in his eyes called, "Taxi!"