“I was deciding between grad school and modeling, which was what my mom wanted me to do. Even if you’re doing it part-time it takes up your life. I knew I wanted to go to graduate school for neuroscience but I didn’t have a subfield yet, I didn’t have any specified interests. After all, it’s not like the textbooks even mention consciousness. Anyways, the decision was made after a fashion show at a party. Everyone, I mean, everyone was drunk on wine and shots. It’s like this cream over everything, that’s how it was at those parties. I didn’t go to many but I went to this one. I had this friend, Sheila . . . God, I haven’t thought about her in years.”

“You were good friends?”

“Probably my best in the modeling world. We worked for the same agency and we kept each other company. There’s an unimaginable amount of downtime while you’re being a human canvas. Anyways, everybody in the house was drunk as hell and there were these uppers being passed around and I had a few. Probably a trigger for serotonin-release, like MDMA. And I’d never really done that before. I thought I was really daring, early twenties you know. It’s not like I had a bad trip or anything. I do remember that I could see myself walking around past all these beautiful, drunk, sexy people. The kind of party where upstairs all the doors get closed and you can hear people having sex in them. All models and rich international pricks. Anyways, the party goes on and I do more shots. And later, and I remember this vividly, I was walking through the house, which felt like a mansion, and I was like gliding around.”

“What were you doing?”