[You know, he really holds off in answering because he realizes if he doesn't tell you - you can't find him. And you can't see him in this reckless state, you couldn't stop him... couldn't judge him. He doesn't have to answer you. He can hide out with a bottle of Jack, get lost and feel ... nothing. It doesn't have to feel better, just like nothing.
Finally, his voice croaks.] Lyrical. Outside, outside... haven't gone in.