Dorian Blues Page #9

They say a boy becomes a

man the day his father dies.

For me it happened

a few days late.

I was getting fed up.

I'd already been through

two nights of wakes...

...listening to a million people

praise my father like he was...

Ghandi's better brother.

And come the morning of the funeral

I'm brooding on the front lawn...

...half hung over

and seriously considering...

...not attending the days events,

and I think my mother knew it.

What are you doing?

Just trying to get

my head on straight.

Don't wait up.

Head on straight about what,

you father?

He could be a real son

of a b*tch, couldn't he?

Excuse me?

What, you didn't

think I knew that?

I didn't think you'd say it.

Well, he was very

angry... I know.

Like to talk about

you for a minute.

- You want to talk, Mom?

- Yes.

- About something?

- Don't.

All right, what do you

want to talk about?

About how much you

remind me of him.

- Of who, Dad?

- Yes.

What is that, some kind

of twisted compliment?

It's not a compliment at all.

I'm saying you're

angry too, honey.

Don't you see how

angry you are?

I do.

Your Aunt Beth does.

I don't want that.

I don't want you to be angry

and hateful toward people.

I want you to be good.

Even though your father

wasn't good to you...

...and your mother didn't have

the nerve to stop him.

I know, baby... I should

have stopped him.

Well, that's all

I had to say.

It was a lot actually.

It was a lot,

because it was true.

My father did leave

me pissed off.

And you know why?

You know the one worst thing

that my father ever did to me?

He convinced me it matters

what people think of you...

...and truth is they never

think quite enough.

So from then,

I started living my life...

...no matter what they thought.

Even when they

thought I was crazy...

...and should take my liberal views

and my pink shirt...

...and move to another planet,

I just had to laugh...

...cause it's not pink, it's fuchsia.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes