The effect, in my mind, was of watching in the center of my vision a television set upon which a series of audio and video morphed quickly one into the other, video games to anime to period movies to cartoons to talk shows to television series. The dialogue seemed in some superficial way to make sense, but on close listening revealed itself to be an absurd string of words and noises.
At one point the television showed a television steam engine, and then it showed the engine circling up and ever smaller around the screen, until a great spiral of steam engines filled the screen and I could only think “The trains go marching on marching on go marching on the trains go marching…” and so on, even though trains don’t march. I got so stuck on thinking it, as a matter of fact, that I became incapable of thinking anything else. I do not know for how long this went on, because as I said I was incognizant of anything but the marching of the trains.
At some point the next thing to arise in my mind was unease with this repetition. Unease gave rise to occasional more cogent thoughts, like “will I ever stop thinking this marching of trains?” and “why is this happening”, and “what is left of me?”. Finally I wailed “WHO AM I?” in my thoughts, scared I’d never remember. Only the marching of trains greeted me at first, and I panicked without words, searching my empty memory for any clue to who I was.
Finally, it came to me, and I shouted “I AM KELLY JOYNER, AND I AM LAYING IN MY BED IN SUNNYVALE!” and awoke with a start. I almost said it again, aloud.
What a strange experience, I thought to myself: I should write it down before I forget it. But: There’s no way I’m getting out of this bed. Well: You’ll just forget it eventually, then. Finally: Then? Hell, I don’t remember it now.