Madness. Pure, unadulterated bliss. The free, unrestricted laughter brought about by the maniac joy I feel. I can dance. I can sing. I can talk to myself without fear. All because of the glorious madness. Is that really the first thing I wrote as a field observation of this world? I can hardly remember anything that occurred after I stepped through that door. I must be careful to stay away from my notes when I am not lucid. After that...I don't remember much. Actually, I can't recall a bloody thing. But from my notes, I think the atmosphere of the place has started getting to me.