(Surimi): Oh, Vatchi, please. Jim must let go. I know the past still has him in its grip and he must not allow himself to forget it. But he cannot let it haunt him. His blackouts. And Sotto, my message to Jim is silence. A kind silence, Vatchi. Let go and let reality fill the crevasses left behind by blackouts.
The teeth chatter, the mind chatter: Let it go. Let silence enter. A resilient silence.
It's my ego that clings to my past, I guess. Even the bad stuff. Can I cobble together some kind of self-image? My Scrapbook is a Crap Book. Like two hundred and fifty TV channels and nothing worth watching. That's my past: No news is my news. Ego. And nowhere to go. Too much self and not enough help. Chaos.
from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Day 9)
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