Part memoir, part stream of consciousness, part diary, part dream, part story, part disclosure, part hiding, part certainty, part doubt, part me, part all of the people I have ever known; partly for you, partly for everyone. Not to put too fine a point on it, however, to become so assured in its use that I might, for this moment, pause.Take a little pace out of the journey; from mind to hand, from hand to page, from page to the thoughts of the reader, whom I would also ask to determine if they might, for now, slow themselves down, or dance a jig, or stub out their last ever cigarette.Whatever their mood, of which I know nothing; besides, other than that nothingness, such as the rain soddened sea-ferry crossing from Ullapool to Stornoway, I have few images for them to draw upon, other than the mountaintop at 3776.