- You do love feeling this way, don't you?
- Yes, I do.
- Even almost everybody looks rarely at you...
- I don't know.
- Don't you see it's alcohol?
- No, it's me. Touched by it, but me itself: The me I hate the less, the only me I manage to stand.
- ...that's not the good path...
- Shut up, bitch! I didn´t ask for approval, I just want to reach the other shore of the beach.
(...) There's a blue bird in my heart that
wants to get out,
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
The bluebird, Charles Bukowski.