I was busy venerating my own bullshit – ‘my bullshit is great, my bullshit is great, my bullshit is great,’ I crowed. Somehow, I never seem to tire of venerating my own bullshit. No one else is particularly impressed by it, it’s true, but that didn’t seem to matter to me. There just aren’t enough hours in the day when you’re busy venerating your own bullshit, I observed. Not enough hours in the day not enough hours in the day. I marvelled at my own ability to pack so much self-veneration into the day; felt good to be so wonderfully productive and not just ‘good’ either – it felt ecstatic. I felt like a god. ‘I am a Deva in the Deva Realm’, I exulted. No longer human, I had pushed myself beyond the limits of any mortal man. Probably I already am immortal, I said to myself. Almost certainly I am now a fully-fledged immortal – nothing can hold me back from achieving my destiny now. When one’s own greatness passes a certain point then it is practically inevitable that one will become a god, I told myself. It simply would not be possible to stay a mere human anymore. Simply not possible. What is a regular human being after all, I asked myself, other than a wretched sack of infections? Spots and itches and athlete’s foot and tooth decay and a runny nose. What god would ever have to suffer from such indignities? What – I asked myself again – is a regular human being after all apart from an association of fallible cells each one of which is deviating further and further away from its true genetic template with every day that passes? And where do we get to by deviating from our true genetic template; what sort of ignominious end lies in wait for us at the end of that particular road. I asked myself. I have at last outrun my own personal entropy, I declared grandly, full of savage pride at my achievement. That critical moment when one knows that one has severed the link with one’s own personal entropy. You can practically hear the ‘ping’ as the cord is cut and one surges ahead, free from all encumbrances. I no longer have to drag it around with me I realised, full of mixed relief and self adulation. Those days were gone. No longer would I have to keep on striving daily to evade this horror, no longer would I have to twist and turn like an eel on a fishing line to escape its clammy touch. No longer would I have to wake up sweating and shaking in the early hours of the morning biting back a strangled cry of incoherent infantile terror at the mere thought of it. No longer would I have to deceive myself, no longer would I have to lie to myself every single day of my life and tell myself soothing stories about how this demon was never going to catch up with me, and cruelly lay waste to all my hopes….