I sparked a joint and stepped out into the night—I needed space to clear the oppressive clutter in my mind. The devil’s words, dangerously sensible, were seeping into my thoughts, twisting them until they weren’t even my own. That was their damnable strength: getting you to believe your own ideas were yours, while they pulled all the invisible strings. And what could I do?
The obvious solution loomed—a perilous task that would take an…