It’s easy to forget the important things while you drink. As you sit on the edge of the balcony, caressing the end of a cigarette; those ideas that suddenly seem important come into focus; they become clear and distinct, and then, once the screaming above has quieted, everything falls into the tiny strands of incoherence. You sit in front of the writing tablet some hours later, trying to recall the specific phrase or turn of words, but they wander by the wayside, swaggering in their own drunk manner, and you can’t confront them, much as you try. The words are lost; they have gone their separate ways.