And maybe you don't want to admit it, right?
It can't have been pretty. Joe dictated poetry, while you and I played willful scribe. Producing impressionistic, collaborative
rot. Drunk as lords and spending money like Westerners without
a purpose. Totally out of character for you. You have a very puritanical streak, a very well-defined sense of morality.
And in Budapest it was all so feudal and immoral. But we were young.
Can you forgive yourself - or me?