Leaves

This is an excerpt from House of Leaves, where one of the narrators is basically going nuts, I thought it was hilarious, yet scary and perfectly encapsulated the idea of imminent insanity.

Of course I was fine.
Except as I started walking down the sidewalk, I watched a truck veer from its lane, flatten a stop sign, desperately trying to slow, momentarily redirect itself, and then in spite of all the brakes on that monster, all the accompanying smoke and ear puncturing shrieks, it still barreled straight into me. Suddenly I understood what it meant to be weightless, flying through the air, no longer ruled by that happy dyad of gravity and mass until I was, landing on the roof of a parked car, which turned out to be my car, a good fifteen feet, hearing the thud but not actually feeling it. I even momentarily blacked out, but came to just in time to watch the truck, still hurtling towards me until it was actually slamming into me, causing me to think, and you're not going to believe this-- "I can't believe this idiot just totaled my car! Of all the cars on this street he had to trash mine!" even as all that steel was grinding into me, instantly pulverizing my legs, my pelvis, the metal from the grill wedging forward like kitchen knives, severing me from the waist down.
People started screaming.
Though not about me.
Something to do with the truck.
It was leaking all over the place.
Gas.
It had caught fire. I was going to burn.
Except it wasn't gas.
It was milk.
Only there was no milk. There was no gas. No leak either. There weren't even any people. Certainly none who were screaming. And there sure as heck wasn't any truck. I was alone. My street was empty. A tree fell on me. So heavy, it took a crane to lift it. Not even a crane could lift it. There are no trees on my block.
This has got to stop.
I have to go.
I did go.