At the end of my dream the other night I was smoking and trying to recall if I ever did quit or if I have been disappointed all my life in this thing I really expected to stop and did not. It was tense those seconds of not knowing if I was who I believed I was or not. It says something about the inner voices within a person asserting they are the singular voice of this consciousness which has no singular voice while demanding the opposite. I quit or someone who claims to be me did. It was long ago. As far back as the pre-internet world of Massimo’s pizza, yellow Toronto police cars and playing piano after hours at Trinity St. Paul’s church.