Wilford finishes off his cigarette and lights another one. He doesn't feel quite as shaky as he did this morning, so maybe good old fashioned nicotine withdrawal was part of his problem after all.

He takes a moment to think about the best way to explain it. There's a way, that might make sense, but he refuses. That way means thinking about things he'd rather not think about. So he pulls the journal out of his inventory again and tosses it over.

Inside is just an endless list of dates and times. The most recent ones are almost daily.

"You fuck something up, or you get hit by a bus or whatever,and you just go back and do it again."