Chapter Two: The book
I accepted a joint from a guy outside my apartment building in the Capital Hill area of Denver, Colorado during the summer of 1981. I'd been living in Denver for two years. I didn't smoke it right then; I saved it for when I would be alone. I'd cut down my marijuana consumption significantly over the past five years while I spent my time writing a book on how I had been cured of schizophrenia with the help of a Las Vegas psychiatrist by the name of Dr. Dave Chapman.
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