It's impossible to move, to live, to operate at any level without leaving traces, bits, seemingly meaningless fragments of personal information.
“In California in the early Spring, There are pale yellow mornings, when the mist burns slowly into day, The air stings like Autumn, clarifies like pain - Well, I have dreamed this coast myself.”
“I would never do crack... I would never do a drug named after a part of my own ass, okay?”