Something Real and Good Page #4

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Kind of like home.

Yeah.

I guess.

But it's also kind of depressing that

you can never go anywhere new.

There's all these trips in my life that I remember

in mile markers and exit signs.

Gas, food, lodging.

The options were always

the same.

But there was this weird sort

of comfort in knowing that

if you pass an exit with

something you wanted,

no worries.

Just go a few more exits

and you'll find it again.

Maybe that's what I miss,

you know?

Feeling that you can never

miss out on something.

Maybe you're just nostalgic

for childhood.

Could be.

Maybe it's just past

your bedtime.

I think it is.

Do you ever think

that you think too much?

Because I think that

all the time.

but not that thinking

is a bad thing.

It's just the incessant thinking about

what I'm thinking about,

and how it makes me think of things

that I don't wanna think about.

What are you thinking about?

About how I'm thinking.

No, I'm just kidding.

I'm thinking about how I can't seem to get through a day without feeling nostalgic about my past

or nostalgic for some future I haven't even

lived and probably never will.

That makes me sad.

Like lives you know you'll never live,

but would like to?

Exactly.

I feel that too.

I always wish there could be

like six of me

and we all lived these different lives,

but had a collective memory bank

we shared.

Or if you could live one life by day

and another by night.

So, you go to bed in one life

and you transport to say Russia

and you live your life there.

Then you go to bed in Russia

and immediately wake up here.

Exactly.

But I mean not Russia.

No, of course not.

I'd look terrible in a babushka.

And I hate in vodka.

Ugh.

We talk too much.

Legit... such a**holes.

I mean seriously where do we get off

taking up so much oxygen?

That's it.

It's cold out here.

Let's go explore some sh*t.

Nice.

Where do you suppose

those doors lead?

I don't know.

Let's find out.

Okay.

Let's go in.

Are you sure about this?

What are you scared of?

What if they catch us

in there?

I am seriously questioning

you right now.

Why?

I thought you had balls.

You wish, homo.

Hey.

Hey.

Hey.

Hey.

Hey.

Hey.

Oh my God.

I'm honored.

I'm so honored.

Ah, let me think.

I'd like to thank the academy.

What an honor!

I mean, I'm honored.

And to my fellow nominees,

you inspire me.

And last not but not least,

my parents for the acting class

when I was two.

You can never start too early.

Thank you.

Thank you all.

I love the world.

Wait, stop the music.

Just stop!

I forgot to thank my

best friends.

My agent, my publicist,

and my lawyer.

Thank you.

Thank you so much.

Thank you.

I wish I could be happy

with something simple.

Like a farm with some animals.

Maybe some sheep that I shear,

weave my fabric on an

old-fashioned loom,

and be happy doing that.

You'd like to shear sheep?

Not literally.

Actually, I'm strangely

frightened by sheep.

I just mean something

like that, you know?

Simpler way of life.

Yeah, but it'd probably suck.

But maybe I'd be happy.

Do you believe that?

Yes.

No.

F***.

I don't know.

It's just that I've decided what to do with myself

because it's what I want,

but I can think of nothing worse than

chasing after something you've always wanted,

and then realizing it doesn't make you happy

even after you struggled to get it.

Yeah, but how do you know

you're gonna hate it once you get there?

I don't know.

Maybe I won't.

But it's what I want at 23.

By the time I get there,

I won't be 23 anymore,

which makes me think I'm always

gonna want what I want now.

Can you tell me something?

I'm a little worried.

Why?

I'm sensing you're no longer

looking for amusement.

Maybe I'm not.

What are you looking for?

Enlightenment.

Cute.

Thanks.

You've been saving that one,

haven't you?

I have.

For how long?

A couple hours.

Now seemed right.

So, I threw it out there.

Right.

You know what I'm tryna do with my possibly

insignificant life.

It's not my fault you caved

so easily.

Okay, could you check your self-loathing at the door

for maybe the next I don't know two minutes?

What?

Enough with the game

of mystery.

Just f***ing tell me.

Jeez.

I am...

I am...

absolutely nothing.

Come on.

Just tell me.

I am a trust fund.

How do you like me now?

So, you're rich?

You could say that.

Like really rich?

Well, I can't say I'm

completely okay with it.

Probably because I'm somewhat

jealous,

but besides that, I mean it can't

be so bad to be rich.

Now can it?

It's not bad.

It's great.

It's f***ing awesome.

Then why are you so upset

about having money?

I mean everybody wants it.

You've got it.

Why am I upset?

Because I'm a waste

of human flesh.

'cause I'm f***ing weak.

'cause instead of a spine

I've a birthright.

Take your pick.

I'll go with birthright.

That one sounds intriguing.

Oh, you're intrigued?

Well, yeah.

I mean, ooh, secret identity

Kind of intrigued.

It's no secret or anything.

I mean this money was made

before there was a me.

I thought I hated it.

I thought I could hate it.

I really thought I could live

without my parent's money.

I had all these great intentions of just

walking away.

But I tell myself,

"self, you don't need this.

Let's live.

Let's see if we can just cut

the rope away."

Romantic, right?

It's got some romance to it.

So, I decided to go on a

spiritualistic journey

where I could actually do something on my own

without my parent's money for once.

I decided to become a real

old-fashioned troubadour.

A troubadour?

Fancy.

I like it.

Well, I don't know if you could actually

technically refer to it as a troubadour

when you finance it with

trust fundage.

Oh.

Yeah.

That's where the weak part

comes in.

Apparently, cutting the net takes a stronger knife

than what I was using.

You need like a serrated blade

or a pocketknife even.

And you are?

Butter knife.

Really dull butter knife.

It's kind of like cutting with a spoon

come to think of it.

Hell, it probably was a spoon.

So, there you were.

Troubadour with a spoon.

Graduated from college and I moved to

San Francisco because it was kerouacian.

I started using the money

right away.

Just small amounts.

Then I used more of it.

And then I forgot to forget

about the money.

Well...

so, what is that you're

doing in New York?

Eating with a spoon.

Oh.

Yeah.

Silver one?

I believe it may be.

How's it taste?

A little bitter.

Kind of like crow.

I heard that's an

acquired taste.

What? Crow?

Yeah, I'm still working

on that one.

So, you aren't doing anything?

Not really.

What do you wanna do?

I don't know.

Well, there must be something.

I'm kind of at this point

of in between.

It's like I know I can do

anything.

I mean I really believe that.

It's just when I think about

actually doing it,

I'm petrified.

Guess I'm just kind of in a

holding pattern.

Well, why don't you just,

I don't know, do something?

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