[Subject is wearing bandage. Sitting in chair with cigarette in hand. Lit. Subject is barely smoking it. Subject is staring off.]
I shouldn't have done that. I know I shouldn't have but can you blame me? You put me through so much... I don't even know what this is for. And it gets me mad, you know, I do all these things for you and I don't even really understand why. You haven't told me whether or not this is going to end soon or go on, you tell me to calm down, you tell me that you care about me. You tell me that I'm important but I know you're lying, I know I'm not.
No I didn't always think this way. But I've made so many fucking mistakes and this is one of them. I shouldn't have invested myself into this project and now I'm sitting here, chain-smoking cigarettes again, with stitches in my forehead talking to you, someone I thought I loved about my life. But you don't care. None of you do, whoever you are.
all of this
I can't talk about the Accident. I don't think I ever will. Just know, that I wasn't always like this. It's important to me that you, that you of all people know that I used to be someone great.
[end of interview]