HOLDEN: Right now? I don’t know. I love her. But she has a past.
JAY: I’ll say. Stuffin’ two guys, eating chicks out. Yo - I heard one time,she had this dog...
HOLDEN: Eat your fucking bagel already!
JAY: Look at this touchy mother fucker right here. So, if you’re all in love with her, what’s the problem?
HOLDEN: The problem is shit like that. It was one thing when it was just girls - that was weird enough. But now you throw guys into the mix - two guys at once, no less. All that experience...What am I supposed to think?
JAY: You think good; because now she’ll be all true blue and shit. The girl’s tasted life, yo. Now she’s settlin’ for your boring, funny-book-makin’ ass.
HOLDEN: Settling. That’s comforting, Jay. Thanks.
JAY: That’s what I’m here for.
HOLDEN: I’m lust having a problem with all of it I can’t get it out of my head these visuals of her doing all this shit. And I don’t know why I can’t let it go. Because I’m crazy about her, you know? I look at this girl, I see the future. I see kids. I see grand-kids.
JAY: You’re scaring me.
HOLDEN: I’m scaring myself. Because I think so much of her, and then I can’t get over shit like ‘Finger Cuffs’. I don’t know what I’m doing.
BOB: You’re chasing Amy.
HOLDEN: What..what did you say?
BOB: You’re chasing Amy.
JAY: What do you look so shocked for? He does this all the time. Fat bastard thinks just because he never says anything, that it’ll have some huge impact when he does open his fucking mouth.
BOB: Why don’t you shut up? Jesus! Always yap, yap, yapping all the time. Give me a fucking headache. I went through something like what you’re going through. Years ago. Same kind of thing with a girl named Amy.
JAY: When?
BOB: A couple of years ago.
JAY: What’d she ‘Live in Canada’ or something? Why don’t I remember this?
BOB: What you don’t know about me I can just about squeeze into the Grand fucking Canyon. Did you know I always wanted to be a dancer in Vegas? Hunhh? Bet you didn’t know that?
JAY: Just cell your fucking story so we can get out of here and smoke this.
BOB: So there’s me an Amy, and we’re all inseparable, right? Just big time in love. And then about four months in, I ask about the ex-boyfriend. Dumb move, I know, but you know how it is - you don’t really want to know, but you just have to... stupid guy bullshit. Anyway she starts telling me all about him - how they dated for years, lived together, her mother likes me better,blah, blah, blah - and I’m okay. But then she tells me that a couple times, brought other people to bed with them - menage a tois, I believe it’s called. Now this just blows my mind. I mean, I’m not used to that sort of thing, right? I was raised Catholic.
JAY: Saint Shithead.
BOB: Do something. So I get weirded out, and just start blasting her, right? This is the only way I can deal with it - by calling her a slut, and telling her that she was used - I mean, I’m out for blood I want to hurt her - because I don’t know how to deal with what I’m feeling. And I’m like "What the fuck is wrong with you?" and she’s telling me that it was that time, in that place, and she didn’t do anything wrong, so she’s not gonna apologize. So I tell her it’s over, and I walk.
JAY: Fucking a.
BOB: No, idiot. It was a mistake. I wasn’t disgusted with her, I was afraid. At that moment, I felt small - like I’d lacked experience, like I’d never be on her level or never be enough for her or something. And what I didn’t get was that she didn’t care. She wasn’t looking for that guy anymore. She was looking for me. But by the time I realized this, it was too late, you know. She’d moved on, and all I had to show for it was some foolish pride, which then gave way to regret. She was the girl,I know that now. But I pushed her away... So I’ve spent every day since then chasing Amy... So to speak.
Shakin' sugar from a sugar spoon Peppermint tea afternoon Alone, alone, alone
Taking a shower take another nap Watching television take a bath Alone, alone, alone
Feel like a book, but I just cant start it Feel like a lover, brokenhearted Look in the mirror at the face in the glass Look like a question no one ever asks
Alone Like I'm supposed to be Lone lonely alone Like I'm supposed to be
Go for a walk, go for a drive Listen to the stereo stay inside Alone, alone, alone
Feel like a book, but I just cant start it Feel like a lover, brokenhearted Look in the mirror at the face in the glass Look like a question no one ever asks
Alone Like I'm supposed to be Lone lonely alone Like I'm supposed to be
Shakin' sugar from a tablespoon bitter black coffee underneath the moon Alone, alone, alone
Feel like a book with a big ghost heart I didn't finish, I didn't start it Look in the mirror at the face in the glass Look like a question no one ever asks
Alone Like I'm supposed to be Lone lonely alone Like I'm supposed to be
"Eu não sinto nenhuma emoção sobre nada. Eu não quero rir nem chorar. Estou dormente; morto por dentro."
- Nick Drake
"Assim como a vida e tudo que dela faz parte, artistas vêm e vão. Poucos são os que permanecem na memória, nas galerias, ou nas coleções particulares. Uma fração deles resiste ao esquecimento. Um número menor ainda fica imortalizado (ou devo dizer fossilizado?) na memória do mundo."