Howard. I saw you tilting and then I came and laid you down gently.
Marcia. I figured I'd be totally in control. How much time has passed?
Howard. About fifteen minutes.
Marcia. One thing I know I said is that the music is very very good. Time gets confused. And when there's music playing it makes a link with planet Earth. That is, you have something that everything else is relative to. God, that was deep. I didn't get into the bright world at all, hardly. I just went into the big wheel. Howard. Do you feel waxy?
Marcia. I don't get the same waxy feeling you do. To you the waxy feeling is unpleasant. (As we discussed the wax suddenly I did feel it. Evidently this is a stage of extreme suggestibility.) All right, now I understand that it is just like wax. Even my teeth are made of wax. Yeech. When I'm typing that I'll spell it yeech. That still doesn't convey how my tongue feels going over those waxy teeth. I feel not one iota different from the wax on that candle.
Howard. God, I hate that feeling. It's so artificial. It feels as though you're never going to get back in your body again. That's the fear, that you're never going to function again.
Marcia. The fear of not functioning. And it's a strange fear because there's a part of you that doesn't care if you don't function again. Than there's a part that does.
Howard. Well, you realize you have to.
Marcia. Sometimes there's a battle. It's only when there's an equilibrium that there's a war. You know, Libra is the sign of war. When I'm really under, most of me doesn't care if I never function again. So there's no battle.
Howard. Libra's the sign of war?
Marcia. Yes, because it's in between. You're being pulled this way and that. You know, war and peace. The reason it's a sign of war is because there's a balance. There's no war if there's no balance. The thing just swamps you. When I'm really under I don't care if I never function again. It couldn't matter less. And when I'm not under I'm functioning. So there's no issue. It's just at that moment of emergence that it's like Libra. Libra you see is emergence-emergency. And that's when the war comes on. You're off balance. And then you have your inner war. Like ju-jitsu-it throws you off balance. In a way it was a very nice trip. If I'd taken fifty milligrams I'd have been totally anesthetized. There'd have been no links at all.
Howard. You'd have been just asleep.
Marcia. No, it's really nothing like sleep. I might add that throughout it was a very pleasurable experience. I loved it. The set is incredibly important. I loved the candle. I loved those wings on the Egyptian scarab picture. Even the roach was OK. And the grain of the wood on the door was flowing and moving.
Howard. Is it moving now?
Marcia. Yes, it's still moving. And it's beautiful. But imagine if someone is hacking away inside your stomach and you're this sensitized. No wonder those people at Parke-Davis don't have much understanding of this substance. "Because here you are; you're hypersensitive, and someone's pounding away at your wax. Someone's carving up that wax. Butchering your wax. Naturally it's not going to feel too good.
Howard. Well, don't forget there's a big difference between the amount of the drug you're taking and the dose we're giving for anesthesia. We're giving overwhelming doses, and combining nitrous oxide and oxygen and a muscle relaxant, and believe me you're not anywhere in this world. But we both know that your subconscious is recording it all. That's true with any anesthetic.
Marcia. I really love it. You know how on the cover of the Playboy magazines there's always a bunny. You know how they work that bunny in some way. Sometimes they do it very cleverly. You have to look a long time before you find the bunny. Well, in my ketamine trip there's always a Howard. He's always there, when I get to the very depths of it.
Howard. (Laughing.) Why do you love me so much?
Marcia. I really don't know. Because it hurts. It's painful sometimes. But when I get as far as I'm going to go under, there's Howard-the other twist of my spiral. You're like that obligatory bunny on the Playboy cover. (Laughing.) Any ketamine experience I have you're in. You know why it's painful? Because the more I love you the more I realize I could lose you. It means I'm that much more vulnerable. I mean, what's a spiral if it doesn't have its other turn? Have you ever seen a spiral without its other turn?
Howard. Never.
Marcia. It's true, as Lill said in her letter today, that pure love knows no possessiveness. And I think of myself as being an unjealous type. We both are because that's one of the qualities of Gemini. Nevertheless, everything spirals. And if you're a spiral without the other turn that's painful.
Howard. Well, I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here with you.
Marcia. I know, and I'm not worried about that. It's no big issue. But what I still haven't figured out is why love and pain are so closely associated in this cosmos. You know, Wagner's "love-death." The lovers have to die. I used to go to a lot of operas. And each time the lovers have to die. In Aida at the end she gets squashed in that horrible Egyptian tomb. I think they entomb her. Yes, she dies for love. And then there was Mignon who dies for love. They all die for love. I mean it's love and pain. And in the zodiac love is Taurus and death, loss and pain are Scorpio. I still haven't figured out why it has to be painful to love someone. Honeybees go up and they mate, and then the male bee falls dead to earth.
Howard. The praying mantis does the same thing.
Marcia. And the black widow kills her husband. Why do love and pain have to go together? Like Mini-mouse running up and down, like the roaches in your building, and Worry Wort. But actually this has been a very joyful time. There's about as much Mini-mouse in my life today as there are cockroaches in this place we're living in. I'm only saying it because it's residual. I want you to be the other turn of my spiral.
Howard. I am the other turn of it. I'm only saying it because it's residual. I want you to be the other turn of my spiral.
Howard. I am the other turn of your spiral. I'm your heavenly twin.
Marcia. You see, Gemini has to be drawn like two pillars. It would be too complicated for astrologers to have to draw them twisted the way they really are, going round and round each other. The finest of yarns are double that way. They twist the strands together and then you get all that subtlety and beauty. And if you take the Gemini sign and give it a twist then you have the true Gemini. That's the serpents-the caduceus-the rod of Mercury. That's the symbol of your own profession. I wonder how many doctors in your hospital know what their emblem really signifies.
Howard. Very few. None.
Marcia. We ourselves don't really know. Even though we are members of the Order of the Serpent. That's the order of those who heal, wherever in the cosmos they may be.
Howard. I can't possibly get off the spiral now. I'm just curious to see what's going to happen. The book's going to come out; I'll have to quit my job. I don't know what the hell I'm going to do. (Laughing nervously.)
Marcia. That's your Mickey Mouse. He's scurrying around squeaking, "What'll I do if I lose my job over this?" Can't you hear that little mousie scream way down under? Howard. Yeah, I hear it.
Marcia. I see Mickey in his short pants and those big ears, and he's scurrying madly about in the depths, saying "What will I do if I lose my job? How am I going to support all those people who are dependent on me?" Mickey is all over the place there. Howard. That's true. When I think of all those years. Working my way through four years of college and four years of medical school, a year of internship, two years of residency… (Tape runs out at this point.)