That strange trip could have gone differently of course. It could have frozen man, in psychological stone, ice, shifting away that desire to share and to communicate a sudden and boundless vision...that in this sad turn, doesn't ripple. They grow apathetic, giving away all they got to the wolves because the coldness of the cerebral image makes them want to wither and have nothing to do with life, nothing worth holding onto.
Point is, all of our greed and backstabbing and talking obnoxiously out turn, is perhaps a more colorful course of events. Keeps you on your trippy toes.
The brain is like a wreck-less object in space. It's starts things that don't stop. Things so simple as moving from point A to point B, but is melting to become point Y and then some other point of a letter we're still working on conjuring up.