Inception

    I guess you never sober up completely really. Like those black holes, you know? These things they're discussing nowadays, that Stephen Hawking thing. It ain't no black hole, they say. They collapse from the inside. Then that other thing, the event horizon, is catching up with itself forever, never fully forming. Well that's sobering up to me. Once you've been all the way down you never come back.
    It helps. I cope better with the damned time that way. It keeps going faster and all those common places -- the world spinning like crazy, years are months, months become like weeks... you know all this shit from the movies, but can't help repeating it all over when you discover it is true. I mean when it happens to you that it is true.
    So that's what it feels like getting sober. You build yourself up little by little but you ain't gonna be a kid again no more. Not after that first time. Shit! Perhaps that's what sat up the time running in the first place. That first night, by the sea, alright, by the harbor with three friends and some vodka I couldn't understand. One of those kids is death. He went to Afghanistan. Another turned out a fascist, a real one. One of those for killing fags and black people. The third guy remains a good pal, as far as I know... The one that died, that night he told me something, and that's what sat all my time in motion -- I didn't realize then. I barely remember anything from that night, but that moment I remember so clearly. He told me something like a curse. Something good, if you know what it is, but it was a curse to me, and one that sat the time in motion never to be stopped. That will haunt me forever in silence, and that's why I must move on and that's why I'm leaving once again. And then he died so there is no way back.