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I once sat at my typewriter and banged out several pages of supposed "drivel," which I accessed a decade later to help me write a passable hallucinogenic scene in a crappy novel I was working on. I guess I had the ability to control myself. I wouldn't want to give a talk in front of a large crowd of people, but all in all, things are enhanced: noisy floorboards and surprising patterns on walls hold your attention; your breathing takes on a new significance and wonder; your peripheral vision becomes more dominant and catch your attention. Frankly, there is so much happening in this enhanced state, you are too preoccupied with the "wow" of it all to be hung up with worrying about "controlling" oneself. At least that's the situation with me. I always liked to pick up a harmonica and play it. Perhaps, anyone in the near vicinity would suffer, but it became very mystical to me and became my guide to blend myself with the "oneness" of it all.