As a wise man once said: feel free to browse, but try not to carouse.
"pat, there’s no way to know where to go from here, it seems to me. i’ve been thinking about it all these years you’ve been gone, like there was some big mystery out there coming for me. but the longer i sit here and wait for it the more i realize that it’s never going to come. that it was up to me to go and dispel the myth of it myself. but having realized that, it’s like my feet are stuck in cement and i can’t move. you know chris has kids now, a boy and a girl and you’d love them. tamer than we were when we were little. i look at them and think that maybe chris had it figured out a long time ago. that he went searching and figured out that there’s just some old man behind a curtain pulling ropes and levers. sometimes i want to ask him about it but can’t bring myself to do it. what would he think i wonder? who would be the failure then?”
"pat, couldn’t sleep again last night. it’s been like that lately, don’t know why really. haven’t really been bothered by it for a while, so it’s back to the ceiling watch and the numbers and the remembrances of faces that i’ve lost. why do i do that do you suppose? just like i think of you.”