"They are always looking."

"What?"

"I feel they are always looking to feel safe, to feel comfort, to find peace..."

"Yeah."

"I feel I have run across people who are hitchhiking. They are constantly trying to get to a place."

"You're picking them up?"

"I'm picking them up. You're picking them up. It seems like they are not searching. It seems that they are happy with what you are offering, but they're not. They are confused and need to always start all over."

"You believe this?"

"I believe this. They may not get out, they may continue riding with you because of what their mother taught them, but they are done. All of their brain cells are focused on finding comfort in this life, finding some sort of respite that nobody else can give them. It's futile. In the meantime they will give you everything, sex, money, their body, but still look out the window. Still look down the road, hating you for giving in to them. hating you for pandering to their addiction."

"It's fun."

"Yes."

"You are agreeing that you do it?"

"I have, yes. I never said I was immune."

"Right."

"But I want to give them what they really want."

"Can you do this?"

"I can be nice."

"Can you?"

"I have to be nice to you by not being so nice."

"No I need you to comfort me.

"I want to give you yourself, which initially isn't so comforting. It will force you out of the car, but you will be back. You will be back."

"Of course."

"It is real comfort."