The I that gathers all the facts. (The symbol that denotes me.)
The starting line, square 1, it’s all good to start with “I.” But is it I that wishes to start? Life is not a set of choices. A kid of 14 who started out December 1973, from Montreal, He is on the run after escaping custody at the juvenile detention center St. Valier’s, He is now hitchhiking on California Highway one, Now the passenger in a green Falcon driving between Monterey and Los Angeles, Absorbed in a panoramic view to one side, an over stimulated Salam chain smoking guy, to the left. New Views of the Pacific at Big Sur unfolding before these impressionable eyes. Ok, it is said that the whole-body regenerates over a period of ten years, so This “Not I,” has somehow grafted memories Of events still disguised as firsthand experiences. Some memories have worked their way into his psyche. Blended right in you could say. Their descriptions being localized in a present of Originals mixed with modified versions slightly corrupted by (Time?)