-Oh! -Oh s**t! -OK.
The f**k are you doing? You can’t just be creeping up on people like that!
I didn’t know you were such a horny face pervert.
What exactly is a horny face pervert? Well you tell me, do you just normally jerk off in the middle of the street?
This is the street, this is my car in which I live in
and yes, sometimes I... pleasure myself
but I don’t expect angry, young, beautiful women
to be creeping up on me at 2 o’clock in the morning, so…
Well, maybe you should!
Yeah, maybe I should.
Do you want a beer?
And you’ve been living in this thing for six months now?
Mm-hmm.
- And you go wherever you want to? - Wherever I want, whenever I want.
I mean, technically,
it’s not my car. I sort of borrowed it from a guy that I knew back home,
but then he borrowed it off another guy, so…
borrowed. Not stolen.
OK.
Pleasure yourself?
Where did you learn to read French, anyway?
I don’t know. Where did you learn to read French?
Well, my mum is French.
-Maybe my mum is French too. -Well, is she?
Yeah…
Anyway!
My French isn’t that great,
something I don’t understand
on page...
69,
no 67.
What does that say? What does that mean?
What’s your deal? Really?
This whole handsome but mysterious grifter who lives in his car,
isn’t it a bit…
-Handsome? -That’s not the point.
-Handsome but mysterious. -No…
That’s not the… I just mean, like, how can you live like this?
- You don’t even have like a TV. - OK.
What?
-Close your eyes. -Why?
Just close your eyes, trust me.
Close…
your eyes.
OK.
-Close your eyes! -OK.
-Are you ready for this? -Yes.
No, I don’t feel it.
- I am. - Are you?
- I am ready! - OK.
And…
- Are you ready? - No.
Alright, you’re ready. Open up.
No way!
I still haven't figured out the sound but…
You realise that this makes you like the corniest person alive, right?
Says the girl I hear singing sad songs in a rundown motel.
I think he loves her.
He loves her, look at him.
What were you writing earlier?
I saw you, were you writing something?
Growing up, it was always my mum and me.
It has always been just us.
Nine months ago, she got sick
and a couple weeks later, she was done.
And after the funeral
I just packed a bag,
filled the tank and left.
I’ve been moving ever since.
I don’t know, just…
reading all this deep s**t just got me thinking like…
maybe it’s a way I can try to express myself or something.
You’re a poet.
No.
-You’re a f*****g poet! -No!
Read it to me.
OK but you got to promise me.
OK.
This stays between us, OK? It goes no further than this moment.
I promise.
Every eyelid’s blinking drops of rain.
Down the windshield while I sleep with eyes half-open.
When the august sun licks away the cool water
I don’t know where it goes.
So, I try to count all the things I don’t know
Like how many times I have to die
just to see that I am still alive.
What? It’s bad?
You say the thing.
The thing I…
Can I ask you something?
What would happen if you just stopped?
Stop moving from place to place and you just…
I got to pee.
Hey!
Everything OK? You seem a little weird.
Yeah, it’s just… waking up in a strange man’s car.
I should probably get back to see if my overnight visitor is still there.
OK.
I guess we can just hang out later.
Yeah.
You can teach me some more French.
I’ll see you later.
Totally, yeah.
Mm-hmm.
Totally.
Mm-hmm.
Yes, but she is doing really well.
I mean, I really think she is.
Dad, I know. Yeah, I know.
But no, dad I promise…
What the actual f**k?
S**t, something… yep. Yep.
-You told him! -OK Mya, just…
You sat there and you promised me... He hadn't sent you! - Let me explain.
He didn’t send me.
I swear. He didn’t send me,
I came because I wanted to see you Mya, it has nothing to do with him.
After what I told to you?
For f**k’s sake Mya! Can I just explain…
You really have no idea who you are anymore Ari.
Mya!
You’re becoming him.
That’s what’s happening and you don’t even see it.
You are becoming him and you don’t even realise it.
Yeah and meanwhile you seem perfectly fine becoming nothing.
-Literally nothing at all. -At least I am trying to be me!
-At least I am trying. -I am trying!
You have no idea what it’s actually like out there in the real world.
I go out there every day, I wade through the s**t, in the noise,
in the f*****g hardness
of it all. You are not trying.
You are just sitting in a room, looking stupid and cute and pointless and sad.
Fleetwood Mac covers! I mean, oh my God!
You don’t even have the courage to do your own stuff. It’s f*****g pathetic.
Yeah?
And you’re still so desperate for daddy’s approval
you are willing to crawl up his a*****e to get it.
You are nothing but a corporate c**k s****r Ari,
and you know it.
And you’re just an Upper East Side,
spoiled, little b***h who has absolutely zero courage
and nothing original to say.
Sometimes I can’t even believe that we are related.
Yeah? Well, I wish we weren’t.
If only your mum hadn’t come around
and wrecked my whole family.
If only your mum hadn’t come around like such
a just a gold digging, home-wrecking w***e!
Ari...
S**t.
OK, but you got to promise me.
This stays between us,
OK? It goes no further than this moment.
I promise.
[SINGING] How many times.
How many times
do I have to die…
How many times
do I have to die
before I can learn
how to be alive?
How many
scars do I have to gain
before I can learn
that I can forget?
F*****g a*****e.
How many times
do I have to die… F**k
…before I can learn… F**k! No, no, no, no, no, no…
…how to be alive?
How many times do I have to die…