Crazy?

Ignoring entirely the fact that we were in Ireland, physically speaking anyway, myself and an unusually shaped friend had a pint at lunchtime. This doesn't really happen in Ireland (except to alcoholics) but we're both (arguably) British so we did it anyway.

We ordered two pints of black blood from the dingiest pub in the Free State and sat down.

He told me how he remembered that he lost his mind and how pleasant that place was. Even his emotions had an echo in so much space. And he was so out there, without care, that he was out of touch. It wasn't that he didn't know enough, he knew too much. Have the time of your life, was his only advice. 

Come on now, who do you think you are, Ha Ha Ha bless your soul, he cackled maniacally.

Then I went to the toilet.

I think he's crazy. Possibly.