Well, of course, birthdays bring back an awful lot of memories. And, of course tonight my memories go way back. They go back to the time when all of this was unimaginable. I began my drug addiction for kicks. I was what you called a "swinger". I, er, paid for it by prostitution. Until, well until I became such a vegetable, nobody wanted me. And I didn't want myself. And there was nothing. The day I walked into Synanon, I wasn't even alive except for my hate. I guess it was my hate that made me ...