From page 24:
The night of prom, Will and I decided to get a big bottle of scotch, and have a long conversation about… whatever. I figured if I was to inebriated to remember a whole lot about the night, then I wouldn’t be doing a whole lot of thinking to start with. “’I’m going to drink until I can’t feel feelings anymore!’ I love that show! You know, In all honesty, I don’t really have a reason to be unhappy… but I am. I know what the problem is… but it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I know what you mean. It’s a real pain in the ass.” Will said.
“Yeah. And the funny thing is that I have given you so much advice on a subject just like this one. But of course, you can’t be objective to your own situation. Advice applies to everybody except the one giving it.” I said.
“I noticed that… I guess the question you have to be asking yourself is 'is it worth it?' Do you like this girl enough to put yourself through all of the emotional strife that you are going through? Do you care enough about her to put up with the subtle little daggers she keeps sticking in you, and having no idea she is doing so?”
“If it wasn’t worth it, I wouldn’t be doing it. I don’t have bullshit relationships, Will. You know that is one of the reasons why we are such good friends. We think alike. We have many of the same morals and convictions, and we are both classed as 'nice guys'. But I will speak for both of us when I say that I’m fucking tired of finishing last. I just want to know what the fuck is wrong with us. What makes us immediately pass through the ‘potential relationship material’ stage and right into the ‘I love you… like a brother’ stage? Every girl I have talked to has said that we ‘are the exact thing that every girl is looking for’, and then I laugh because that exact same girl is in some goddamned fucking unhealthy bullshit relationship, and not even giving me the time of day as far as me being a single male goes.”
“I can’t decide if you get more eloquent when you are drunk, or if it is because my IQ is going down along with with the contents of my glass. In any event, I could make so much money off of you if I would just write some of your shit down.”
“Heh. Yeah. I should write a book. It would be fucking epic.”
“Shit man… You should. They could turn your life into a movie. And then everybody that watched it would go home and cry themselves to sleep. Your movie could be the proof that society needs that there is no god.”
“I’ve said it for years. If there is a god, he is one of three things; He is either one sick fucker that likes to toy with everybody’s existence like they are some sort of goddamned pawn in his twisted game here on earth, or he wants certain people to serve as an example to others, or the most likely of the three, he just fucking hates me, and everybody that I try to get close to.”
“Where is my pen and paper? Fucking golden.”
“I think it’s under that picture of that girl you want to have sex with.”
“Which one?”
“The one your best friend is dating, and your other friend is horribly infatuated with.”
“Oh. That one. Here it is… What were we talking about again?”
“The fact that there isn’t a god, and if there is one, then he rigged the election by murdering the other candidates.”
“Oh. Right. You know that if there is a god, you are going strait to hell, right?”
“Yeah. Well we all have to die sometime. We're all getting closer, even if just in a Sylvia Platt sense”
“I know what you mean. It’s a real pain in the ass.” Will said.
“Yeah. And the funny thing is that I have given you so much advice on a subject just like this one. But of course, you can’t be objective to your own situation. Advice applies to everybody except the one giving it.” I said.
“I noticed that… I guess the question you have to be asking yourself is 'is it worth it?' Do you like this girl enough to put yourself through all of the emotional strife that you are going through? Do you care enough about her to put up with the subtle little daggers she keeps sticking in you, and having no idea she is doing so?”
“If it wasn’t worth it, I wouldn’t be doing it. I don’t have bullshit relationships, Will. You know that is one of the reasons why we are such good friends. We think alike. We have many of the same morals and convictions, and we are both classed as 'nice guys'. But I will speak for both of us when I say that I’m fucking tired of finishing last. I just want to know what the fuck is wrong with us. What makes us immediately pass through the ‘potential relationship material’ stage and right into the ‘I love you… like a brother’ stage? Every girl I have talked to has said that we ‘are the exact thing that every girl is looking for’, and then I laugh because that exact same girl is in some goddamned fucking unhealthy bullshit relationship, and not even giving me the time of day as far as me being a single male goes.”
“I can’t decide if you get more eloquent when you are drunk, or if it is because my IQ is going down along with with the contents of my glass. In any event, I could make so much money off of you if I would just write some of your shit down.”
“Heh. Yeah. I should write a book. It would be fucking epic.”
“Shit man… You should. They could turn your life into a movie. And then everybody that watched it would go home and cry themselves to sleep. Your movie could be the proof that society needs that there is no god.”
“I’ve said it for years. If there is a god, he is one of three things; He is either one sick fucker that likes to toy with everybody’s existence like they are some sort of goddamned pawn in his twisted game here on earth, or he wants certain people to serve as an example to others, or the most likely of the three, he just fucking hates me, and everybody that I try to get close to.”
“Where is my pen and paper? Fucking golden.”
“I think it’s under that picture of that girl you want to have sex with.”
“Which one?”
“The one your best friend is dating, and your other friend is horribly infatuated with.”
“Oh. That one. Here it is… What were we talking about again?”
“The fact that there isn’t a god, and if there is one, then he rigged the election by murdering the other candidates.”
“Oh. Right. You know that if there is a god, you are going strait to hell, right?”
“Yeah. Well we all have to die sometime. We're all getting closer, even if just in a Sylvia Platt sense”