Jesus, no. I don't want to talk about the memories I don't want people to see. But, fuck. There are memories, my memories, about pretty intimate things out there. I got one of them back? But... there's really no telling how many of them are still there, you know?

[It could be his whole life, cut down in to small pieces and littered all over town. It could be all of his low points, all of the things he never wanted anyone to see and he would never know.

He drains the glass, holding it out to Ambrose for more.]

Doesn't it bother you? That people here might be seeing all kinds of things about you?