Anthony is going out on himself.

"I need to go on strike from my thoughts."


"This conversation is starting off in the wrong direction."


"Just not doing it anymore."


"Are we talking about a sit down strike? Or are you taking it to the streets? I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about."


"My thoughts are the problem. My thoughts and the ideas they breed, and the actions I take because of them is the singular ingredient to every problem I've had, have and will have..."


"Where is my drink?"


"Are you listening?"


"I just need a few drinks to make it go down easier."


"I just need--for the very first time in my life to go on a strike against my own thought system. It has been oppressive, unrelenting."


"What the shit does that mean?"


"I have to. What other choice do I have?


"I don't know how to respond."


"I'm pretty sure it will be successful strike...."


"Please....I have to get something to drink!"


"I have to do something different."


"Don't you think our thoughts and actions keep us from being homeless."


"What?"


"If you don't do things as directed your life falls apart, right?"


"There has to be something that appears..."


"What?"


"Something."


"Something?"


"Can I try someone else."


"Ok."


"It will be peaceful."


"Where is that drink?"

William is trying to hear.

" I need it quiet."

"What? Here?"

"It is not necessarily the loud people that I worry about. It is the ones that get to close....it is about the places my mind takes me to when I am trying to escape the stark now.


"That stark now gets me."

"I'm serious here."

"I know."

"Huh?"

"I hear you. The stark."

"It is like I am in a concert hall..."

"Which one?"

"I am at a symphony....and all of these instruments are playing to distract me. It is distracting me so I can't gather consistent thought, I can't here the flute. I can't hear the quietest instrument that will direct me..."

"I don't understand."

"I don't care about finances and family disputes. I only care about the accountability of self and everything that serves that."

"Delicious."

"That quiet flute."

"What?"

"I just want to hear....everything else is so loud..."

"OK."

"It's...all a distraction from my interaction......."

"What?"

"And this interaction is with myself. I need it for an exact direction out of this preposterous illusionary life.."

"I can't say......

"I need the exact place to go. I am looking for only one sound for this."

"Like me for the perfect apple fritter."

William can't ruin himself.

"Huh?"




"What?"


"I know I can't completely ruin myself...I can't destroy myself..."




"With this food?"


"No. What are you doing?"


"What?"


"It is like....almost, you know? It is always..... almost, but not quite--close.....but then ok in the morning."


"What?"


"It's just nothing. Whatever gets your attention--your tailor made attention  seems to be used to lure you to the edge, but you do the jumping, only to be lured again. It can only get you to the edge."


"So what?"


"Something is trying to ruin us everyday.....every single day. We wake up and we are in the attack."


"I dated her."


"It's parlor tricks. I say let it. See how far it can go. It can't go all the way then it would be found out. Listen let it go all the way to the edge..."


"Ok."


"Go to the edge with it and laugh."


"This food makes me cry."

"One must have the wisdom to fall apart."