“I pictured myself paddling across a river with black water, only the canoe was going backwards instead of forwards, with clouds that were faces laughing spooky fun-house laughs which wouldn’t stop echoing.”

Jim writes about his experiences being high with a poetic style and tone. He relishes the feelings and thoughts that occur and regularly compares them to images of nature. Jim lives in the heart of New York City and enjoys fantasizing about life in the natural world, thinking it must be far more beautiful and peaceful than where he lives.

“Good for the big bastard, he never gives credit, and he won’t even let you use the bathroom in the joint. Now the big tough guy is down on his knees in the street.”

Jim’s disdain and lack of empathy for authority figures, as well as his refusal to hold back in his expression, often shine through in his diary entries. He observes occurrences of irony in his daily life and finds amusement in them. In this case, he is laughing at a pizza parlor owner whose business is burning down.

“As usual the transit cop comes along at 181st St. and kicks the guy off and the guy gives me this pathetic sad wave good-bye as the train was pulling out like he was thinking, ‘Who’s gonna listen to me now?’ and I felt black and sad like always after that happens.”

Where Jim lacks empathy for authority figures, he makes up for in empathy for gay people, Black people, and the poor. Unlike those around him, particularly his family, Jim is against the idea of treating people differently based on superficial factors. His empathy is often taken advantage of by people who seem to sense it in him and want to unload their pain.