I once experienced an episode of sleep paralysis with auditory hallucinations. I heard a deep masculine voice speaking in a guttural language that seemed just on the edge of being comprehensible to me. As if it were the primeval language from which all others sprang. The feel of the language in my ear was as familiar as my native tongue. I recognized the cadence, I could discern where one word ended and the next began, whether a sentence was a question, and so forth. But the words themselves were somehow alien.

I strained my senses trying to hear the voice more clearly. What horrible prophesy was I being given? What dreadful task have I been appointed? Am I the keymaster? The antichrist? Am I dying? Oh shit, that’s it, isn’t it? I’m dying and going to hell. Fuckfuckfuck. Um. I accept Jesus as my savior? …Buddha? …Joe Pesci?

Then I snapped out of it and the voice turned out to be the muffled sound of my neighbor’s TV. Praise be to Joe Pesci!