Alcohol is the anesthesia by which we endure the operation of life.
I don't know where the idea originated that memoir writing is cathartic. For me, it's always felt like playing my own neurosurgeon, sans anesthesia. As a memoirist, you have to crack your head open and examine every uncomfortable thing in there.
I got this idea about being afraid to let go of something and being afraid of sinking into a state of almost anesthesia, where you have to trust other people. Just the paranoia of it all. And it seemed to suit the frenetic track. So I just wrote it out and, you know, said it.
The state should, I think, be called 'anesthesia.' This signifies insensibility.
Anesthesia is quite remarkable. It's lost time. And you wake up kind of refreshed.