(Sotto): I don’t like where this seems to be headed.
I can’t let my past, my memory of my active addiction pull me into some inescapable vortex, to relive it all, again, through another drink. The past itself, my mere memory of it can turn into a drink if I am not careful. Or I can live forever in the memory of my past and find it impossible to move forward. I could ignore my past, but I must look at it. Hold it up to the light. Examine it.
Then, let it go.
“Don’t worry, Jim. You can let it go," I say to myself. "Don’t worry. I’ll be back to haunt you,” my dear Alcohol replies.
(Vatchi): Yes, Sotto, something bad has happened here. Jim can and can't face the music here. He can and can't go on here. He's in a cul-de-sac here. There is no room in the present for this Jim. His past has succeeded in crowding him in. There are no answers for him here. These are disconnected memories.... (Cont'd)
from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Chapter 30)
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