Brick

I drank a diet coke and tried to hallucinate Jack Daniels in it.

It's strange-- I'm able to tell my new friend all sorts of crazy shit and it makes perfect sense to him. Like-- once I made out with a cab driver because I didn't have money to pay the fare. (He's done that too!) Once I woke up on the sidewalk. (So did he!) Once I brought a guy home to do drugs and was assaulted in my apartment. Oh, wait-- that happened twice. Drama, drama, drama... I've had so many dramatic fights ending with the dripping of my own blood.

There are a lot of things I can't tell you guys.

He has stories of his own-- once he asked a homeless girl if she wanted to stay with him, only to find out that she had a boyfriend that started dealing drugs out of the apartment. Once he dated a prostitute. Once he punched a guy in a bar, and the guy was twice his size. Oh yeah-- and he said some nasty things to that guy-- things he doesn't even believe.

I've said things that I don't believe. Sucked dicks. Done things...

He has said a lot of shitty things. Stupid things. I've cried a lot and cut myself up--my hands, wrists, arms, ankles, thighs, hips. And I've cut up my heart. It's all good though, right?

Why do I love those things? Why do I miss those things?

We both love them. The change is going to have to be major.

Brick: Oh, yes sir. (Lifting his glass) You can live with this.
Big Daddy: That's not livin', that's a-dodgin away from life.
Brick: I want to dodge away from it.
Big Daddy: Then son, why don't you kill yourself?
Brick: 'Cause I like to drink.
Big Daddy: I can't talk to you.
Brick: I'm sorry.

I like to drink too.