In the summer of 2020, I felt as if I'd entered the wrong portal, out of the world I knew and into its bizarro twin.
On March 6, 2020, Andrew and I went to a rave. If it weren't for what happened later, I don't think it would have stood out in my memory. A couple of days before, I had met a friend at the movie theatre at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, to see 'Portrait of a Lady on Fire.'
I sat up in bed, and, as the waves of acid broke over me, I wrote down some thoughts. I was a magazine writer, but I was thinking of going to Brazil to write a book about the Amazon rainforest. The problem with trying to write a book about the Amazon rainforest was that it was a place that was much better left alone, like Everest, or the moon.
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