I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real. (Johnny Cash)

I gave Nicky the money to fly to the Lake District for William's funeral. I wanted to go but I knew he would rather die himself than have me there.

I stopped crying. I couldn't cry anymore. I couldn't even think anymore, not about the people who used to be in my life anyway. I hurt to think.

It hurt to think of all the people that had died and even worse to think about the people who were left behind: Nicky, Tommy, the families of the six seven deceased souls. There was so much pain and I felt at fault, so I disconnected myself from it.

I stayed at my home in the Palisades, it was my favorite. I couldn't even read anymore. I would just sleep, get high, sit silently and watch the ocean. I would think about drowning sometimes. It might be a peaceful way to die. The Pacific Ocean is beautiful. From the first time I started to think about death I knew I would like to die at the hand of beauty.

I met with Steinbecker sometimes. She was taking care of me. I paid for Tommy's attorney. That seemed safe. It was a friend of Steinbecker, which was less of a conflict of interest than having her represent him but it allowed us to keep on top of what was going on. I paid for it because I wanted Tommy to think I was taking care of him. I didn't go see him. I didn't see anybody anymore. Steinbecker became my new Miami, she took care of things. She sent Tommy care packages from me at least once a week. She went to see him and told him how upset I was. Hiring Steinbecker was a good decision amid the sea of bad decisions that had got me there.