How high is Freddy Nietzsche today? Technically not at all. The kid just has to be an iconoclast even about his rebellious activities; he's expressed to his smattering of friends on multiple occasions that 4/20 makes no sense for the day to smoke up. What with Columbine, Hitler's day of birth, and all that shit... he's carved on the wall with exacto knife, leaving the subsequent clause unwritten.
But with that in mind, there's no telling what's flooded his system now.
Freddy hasn't shaved in weeks, and to look at how thin he's become, one might guess he's been subsisting on a bag of chips here and there, and mostly beer. Seated on the floor of his one-room apartment, he shoots a glance at his answering machine. Five messages, all from the hospital, wanting to see him again; he's not interested in calling back.
Zarathustra, Avraham, Moshe, Siddhārtha Gautama, Krishna, Yeshua, Muḥammad, the Bab, Bahá'u'lláh. Wie man wird, was man ist. Hypergraphia took him over at some point, he's not sure when. On the top of every piece of paper that lies next to him is this cryptic mantra, and then text, continuations of text. It isn't poetry, but a series of thoughts feverishly articulated, half in English and half in German, more German than he actually knows.
On the top of the next page he writes this again, but after Bahá'u'lláh, he adds ellipses, then a question mark. "Zzzzzz," he sounds under his breath, ruminating over the feel of the buzz on his tongue. "Zzzzzoro... aster... Zorro." Cracking up, he pencils ZORRO next to the question mark. ZORRO IS NEXT EL OH EL. Men in black! Darth motherfucking vaderr.
Freddy lights a normal cigarette. He can't tell when migraines are coming and going anymore. The aura is always there, the glow at the edges of his vision. At some point he picks up his phone and calls someone. "Bakunin," he tells the voicemail in a monotone, even though he can't remember who that is. "Hey motherfucker. Who are you and why are you in my address book? I'm being abducted by fucking Raëlians, come save me."
He almost calls Lou, but he remembers who that is, and in remembering, he looks over his shoulder at the bearded man in the corner, turbaned and seated in a lotus position, meditating but breaking away from the activity to shoot a daring glare in Freddy's direction.