Original subtitles

I thought I would start from the beginning.

But that's not how I remember it.

Everything is a series of fragments.

Repetitions.

Pattern formations.

When there are no words for the pain...

...let your imagination change what you know.

Conglomerates are the movement of soil in the freedom of water.

A ring around a stone is luck.

Smooth and small.

Sandstone is calming and clear. Slate, of course, rational.

Red sandstone is the blood of the earth.

You believe in blue.

Sorry.

Memories...

...are stories.

Best to find one you can live with.

I. HOLD YOUR BREATH

A smiling face.

Flower.

Christmas tree.

Stop.

Claudia, go upstairs. Go!

Not!

Just let me know when you're ready.

We can stay here all night.

Damn, take this!

That's so nice, Claudia. I actually think it will

to make you feel better immediately.

Make you feel better instantly.

Sing with me, Belle.

Come on, Lidia Belle. Sing with me. You know all the lyrics.

It was my voice that disappeared.

Sometimes I think it came down to paper.

-I wrote... -...pictures and true things...

-...lie alternately. -It made me feel that...

-Made me feel like someone else. -For God's sake!

-I wrote words to belong. -It's your daughter!

Not daughter.

For swimmers.

For safety.

For girls. You make me crawl and give me a headache.

Mother.

Her hair.

Her scar.

Her story.

I won an award for that story, Belle.

And your father...

...won an art award for this drawing.

So gone she was.

And my sister. My worship.

My sister. My respect.

You look like a scoundrel in that baggy, ugly shirt.

It doesn't help you at all.

Look at me.

Are you trying to look like a man?

My sister. She takes everything.

My sister. She takes everything.

In the house.

Alone in my room.

My arms ache.

My sister is gone.

My mother is...

...away.

My dad is drawing houses in the next room. He's smoking.

Hey, old lady.

I'll wait until five in the morning.

I ask for

to be able to swim.

My little girl.

You're growing up so fast.

Teenager.

In high school. I can't believe it.

Okay, get in line. Girls, time for weigh-in.

You know how it goes. A spanking for every extra kilo.

Torres.

Talented girl.

Exactly. That's right, yes.

Straps. 1.5 kilos.

Come on, old man.

Yuknavitch.

One for you, first-timer. We'll do it properly.

How many kilometers does it take?

to swim

to a self?

How...many...

...damn kilometers?

We broke a record! We broke a tamejfan record!

Our medley relay gold medalists from the Florida Aquatic Swim Team

had the best time in the whole country.

Congratulations.

The talent scouts are watching, third-rounders.

So you really want this, then?

You only got three quarters.

If they had wanted you, they would have given you everything, right?

"We are pleased to be able to offer a partial scholarship."

Half. You're better than that.

The last one.

In my head I swam lengths.

You didn't even get a full scholarship.

Don't blame me.

If they don't want you, you don't belong there.

I could taste the blood.

The answer is no.

Why?

Because he could.

What then?

And I was his.

Listen, look at me.

Look at me.

I only want the best for you. You know that.

I knew he could feel it.

That pink muscle.

As a pinch

and pinches...

-You guys should be out warming up. -...for all it's worth.

Lidia!

Do you need help?

I'm the coach for Texas Tech.

Nice to meet you. Let's talk.

We would like to have you on our team.

Yes.

I almost loved her.

Now let's go, Belle.

I know you, Lidia. I know what you do.

And it's disgusting. Do you hear me?

That's fucking disgusting, Lidia. You should be ashamed!

This is control.

I control myself.

You don't know how far I can go.

My bedroom has room for the wet and dark in my body.

It smells like my sweat.

and chlorine.

Hello. You can't sleep, huh?

Yeah, me neither.

Come here. I want to talk to you.

Sorry if I've been so hard on you lately.

I guess I just...

...I'm so worried about you out there.

Things will be different when you go to college.

I want you to listen to me.

He told me what boys would do to me.

How they would stick their filthy hands under my skirt and fuck me.

Pat my breasts.

Suck on them.

How disgusting boys could be.

Their hands, their hips that want to go in and up.

And their dicks.

And his.

I sit next to him,

feel the warmth from him without even looking.

What are you doing out here?

What's wrong with you?

I want you to know

that I love you.

You are a fucking whore.

Do you have something to say to me?

Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit.

What did you just say?

Fuck you...you fucking piece of shit.

Leave me alone, for fuck's sake!

Everything I thought about

was my own wide-open pussy.

Wide open like a mouth...screaming.

You fucking shit!

You fucking shit.

I didn't know a girl's body could do that.

Spray a batch.

My food, my thoughts, my friends, my place.

My booze, my days, my nights.

-My sex, my drugs. -Mine.

Something so far down in a body

that it was bound to explode.

Yuk!

Where do you think you're going?

I know you.

You're not going anywhere.

So far from my dad.

So far away from my father...

I just want to...

I love your hands.

I love your voice.

It's my dad and my brother who have the real votes.

I always hear them in my head.

Is that true?

What do they say?

They just sing "Amazing Grace."

Voices of God.

Fuck me.

Poor Philip.

I wish I could go back and apologize.

Fuck you all!

Eat me!

He's just a regular James Taylor.

who sings with all their heart here in Texas!

And sometimes I wonder

If you ever think of me

This world may never change

As it has been

And I know that peace will come

Why do you always do that, Lidia?

It's fun. Come on!

It's fun! You know it.

You are...such a pussy!

Come on, learn to take...

...just kidding. You're so fucking sensitive.

This is probably one of the most pathetic things I've ever seen.

This is what... This is what I'm talking about.

It's like talking to a fucking doorknob.

Why don't you say something? Please, say anything.

I'm a fucking idiot, so why aren't you doing anything about it?

You are not a jerk.

Damn you, Philip!

You don't even fucking know me.

Phillip means "horse lover".

Damn it.

Or "brotherhood".

Wake up, you fucking piece of shit!

Hey, Lids. Do you want to get out of here?

She's okay. I'll drive her back.

Listen, close the door there.

Just close the damn door!

I haven't seen you at practice.

Yes, I got kicked out.

It's quiet.

I can still feel my face.

The addiction is clearly in me.

But I want to describe something else to you.

Something smaller.

It's a smaller word.

Mother?

So small that it can travel in the bloodstream.

Get out of here, Belle.

Get out of here, Belle.

Stay away.

This is not for you.

I'm not going to talk about anything.

I'm not going to talk about anything.

I'm not going to talk about anything.

Dorothy?

Come on. Get up.

I'm sorry!

I'm sorry.

Yes. Lydia...

You can talk to us.

That helps.

Trust me.

I'm not going to talk about anything.

I always want to say... Yes.

Finding meaning in the traffic of life

by clearing spiritual barriers.

I am proud of you.

Do you know?

Yes.

Will you marry me?

And children have their dreams

To hold on to

And how they fly

Takes us to the moon

Yes, they flow from you

They flow from you.

And they flow from you

And women have themselves to hold on to

And the way they fly surprises me

They flow from me

They flow from me

And they flow from me

Grandma, you were so talented.

You were so talented!

-I made you some tea. -I don't want any tea. What should we do?

Lidia...

I love you.

And whatever you want to do, I will support it.

Was that all?

I need more than anything

from the most passive man on this fucking planet!

Sorry, I've been a little sick.

You don't want anything, and you're killing me by not wanting anything!

-What were you thinking? -I don't know.

I don't know. I don't know. It's fucking impossible!

I can't stand how nice he is. I just can't stand it!

I can't stand his kindness.

But I couldn't have finished it either.

I thought maybe there was a world where I...

...comes and lives with you

in Eugene and taking some courses that you teach.

I don't know. Maybe we can form a little...

...family.

Because I think my life with him is going to be a sad fucking country song.

-And this is the only thing... -Lidia, I said yes.

Come home.

Okay.

Nice.

Because she left me once

to save his own life.

What are you two doing back there? Are you playing with yourselves?

What then? I'll take them to the most beautiful landscape in the world

and they're just playing tricks.

Look out that damn window!

Claudia, grab the hacksaw under your mom's seat.

Come on! Let's go.

Go ahead, old man.

As food.

As food.

Don't you want it?

Come on, old lady. Just a little sip to warm you up.

Thank you, God!

Where is the Christmas tree?

Where.

That's the picture.

Welcome home.

Come in. I'll take that one.

-Because I'm pregnant? -Yes.

Here.

Tack.

It was like hell.

Thank you, Claudia.

Remember when you used to make me do things?

Seam...

"Here. Bite into this apple."

Push it into my mouth.

-"Here. Smell this ashtray." -"Just blow on it. One, two..."

Ash all over my fucking face.

I would have done anything.

You were fabulous in my eyes.

I remember when I went downstairs after you moved into the basement.

I didn't realize how smart it was at the time, but...

I used to look at all your stuff and touch it.

I once found a razor blade in your purse.

I cut myself on it.

It made it sting when I pee.

I know this is a...sacrifice.

The best.

That's just it...

You were so small.

This is a way to piece together your life.

I may have been waiting for this.

Breathe.

I know.

Come on. Come on.

Of...

...can do this.

Can I hold her?

Sure.

Just a moment. We're just clearing out...

Her lips are pink.

They are pink.

Just throw it as far as you can.

It's not fun.

Download it.

Sorry.

Look. She's all over you.

You're laughing for the hell of it.

What lived and died between us

still haunts me.

II. UNDER THE BLUE

Oh my god, girl! Are you some kind of mermaid, or what?

Yep.

Do you have something to say?

Forget it.

Come on. You deserve this.

Don't you want to come with me?

I'm not even a student. I just hang out in the English department.

Do you think Kesey cares about university rules?

-You'll regret it if you don't. -They don't even want to enroll me.

Bullshit! I already told him about you.

These...

He will love you.

Don't you want to write a novel with Ken Kesey?

Hello, everyone. Hello, everyone.

You are an idiot.

Hello, this is Lidia.

-Say hello. -Hello.

Hello there.

What do we have here?

A naughty kid with top grades?

I know what happened to you.

Death is too fucking bad.

Damn too.

Jeff, can you roll one? I hate sitting in a room full of writers.

The chair will do.

I want you all to...

I want you all to be winners. I want you to be warriors.

Warrior. I will give you the warrior test.

Shit flows. Cream rises.

Shit is flowing. Jerry Rubin.

Cream rises.

Ferlinghetti.

Lord Buckley.

Lenny Bruce.

The big ones.

I want you to grow up.

Damn, for some reason...

...must shape our culture for the next 50 years

and I want it to be you. There are only two rules. One:

Don't talk about the plot of our novel.

with someone who is not in this class.

Two: I make up 50 percent of the class,

so we just write together,

because we will give out or perish together.

Nelson Algren on:

"The author's task

is to drag the judge down to the dock,

"to make the Almighty feel what it's like to be far down."

He'll be fine.

Grass has never killed anyone.

So go now.

All at once. Write some bizarre sentences.

Hey! Where are you somewhere?

Do not take sedatives before class.

Now get lost in your imagination. Come on!

Get lost in your imagination. No one is in the room except you and the pen.

Better.

Here it is. This is awful.

I wrote "Demon Box" here.

This room is a creative room. It's a creative place.

Listen, Bennett. You didn't bring any tranquilizers, did you?

Those types of drugs settle in the body, not in the head.

Stick to LSD, psilocybin, San Pedro.

Something that can break down your ego so you can hear your inner voice.

And you write from that voice.

You want your voice to be heard.

Crikey...

It's not meant to happen.

I have wrestler's knee.

Okay.

Let's go out before the sun goes down.

I want you to...

...to meet someone.

Come on!

Damn you, God!

God made a mistake with the commandments. I believe there is an eleventh.

And that should be the first commandment. Have mercy.

Lord, have mercy!

Imagine if everyone was merciful to each other where we would be today.

You see a man on the street who needs some money. Give it to him.

Be merciful. He needs it.

He wouldn't ask for it if he didn't need it.

Mercy.

They will have to hire me to rewrite the Bible.

What are you, some kind of mermaid?

Yep.

You know, when Judd died, my boy,

then I wanted to cease to exist.

And everyone who talked to me said something idiotic.

Or nothing at all.

Nobody understands death these days.

It used to be holy. So holy.

Hell too. No one is big enough to bear what happens to us.

No one is big enough to bear what happens to us.

Do you have something to say?

It is in your hands.

Everything that concerned my father was in his hands.

It's all about coordination.

A perfectly balanced dance.

Of shadow and light.

Before my dad was my dad

was he an artist.

Your dad won an award for this drawing.

Before my dad was an artist

was he an athlete.

Before my dad was my dad...

...he was beautiful.

And she was there.

Before my dad was my dad

was he a boy.

Just a boy

whose mother cut out his tongue.

Before I hated him

I loved him.

Look up. If you don't look where you're going, you'll fall, understand?

At the end of the hill, you brake just enough to make a turn. Okay?

Drive. Keep your eyes on the road!

Continue.

Keep your head up!

Eyes on the road. You have to brake!

Mike!

-Get a flashlight! -Why?

I think she's hurt down there. She's bleeding.

-What happened? -Just close the damn door!

Are you finished with the chapter?

All I was, was my bleeding body

Hello there!

I am a writer.

Tack.

We are gathered here because we want to see the result.

We want to witness the results of this experiment,

a collaborative novel

written by us.

So let's welcome the first of the not-so-happy pranksters to the stage.

to present "Caverns".

Lydia, come up.

It will go smoothly.

My thigh behind my knee...

You too? My asshole.

-The back of my knees, and they are... -Lidia's dad.

What can I say? I'm a big fan.

Mike, right?

Yes, that's right.

Nice that you could come.

Lidia and I watched One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and Hard to Get Hard together,

and it's just brilliant. I mean, brilliant books.

You know, Mike...

Lydia here...

She can score a goal.

Do you want me to sign it?

Thanks for coming, Dad.

Till...Mike?

Would love to.

"Till Mike."

"Our...

...brave."

Go ahead, Mike.

-Here you go, friend. -Yep.

I have seen many writers come and go.

You have what it takes.

I have something for you.

Here.

Here you go.

It comes from the most spiritual beach on earth.

Hold it.

You can keep everything.

You will hold it all, girl.

So...

What happens next?

-Next? -Next. What's next?

Next.

I want to write "The Storm and the Fury."

Of course you want it, friend.

Oh, gosh...

-Throw it and see if I can catch it. -Ready?

Damn too!

Everything depended on whether it would go in.

It has no metaphor.

-Okay. -Damn metaphors.

-Okay. -It's just a rock that fell.

-I'm going to get the stone and go pee. -Sure.

That's right, yes! You fix it.

That was the last time I saw him.

You can write, girl!

In my opinion, he drowned.

III. THE WET

Caddie wants to fuck. She's insatiable,

and because the guy next door has a huge bulge in his pants

and a sound coming out of him instead of language,

She goes over to him and takes off all her clothes,

so he finally fucks her

and crushes her.

He fucks her to death, and she loves it!

She laughs until she cries and an ambulance has to come.

But it's too late.

It's "The Storm and the Fury".

Banal.

I have already read "The Storm and the Fury".

Reworking Faulkner is just college crap.

Maybe try something original.

God, I hate them.

What the hell does he know?

It's original. It's a fucking pastiche.

Hey, do you want to go to the coast? I got us a room.

Hi, Hannah.

-We're actually going to work on these this weekend. -Come on. Your fly is open.

Lids...

What is that?

Do it if you dare.

Come on.

Something.

At any time.

Anywhere.

-Please, be careful. -Anything. Anytime. Anywhere.

To feel absolutely nothing.

-I'm going to get some firewood. -Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Is this some kind of...

...a fucking trip?

And?

I've never... I've never liked pussy.

I wanted to stay there.

Beyond all words.

Inside the nameless wet.

Are you okay?

I love you, Lids.

I really love you.

See you later.

In water,

like in books,

can you leave your life?

I took it! I took it.

-I remember a happy childhood. -Come on, come on!

-We dive, we swim, we compete. -You were fast that time.

We laugh like other people's children.

I remember first and last names like Evie Kosenkranius

and Lynn Colella-Bell.

Lynn Colella-Bell. Lynn Colella-Bell. Lynn Colella-Bell.

Make song loops in my head.

Glandular fever?

Isn't that the kissing bug?

No. Don't be stupid.

Everything will be okay, Belle. You'll see. You'll feel better.

And your dad will take good care of you.

-Are you sure you want to? -We'll be fine.

Mom is going to go sell some houses.

Hey, old lady.

My little girl.

In a few days it will be over.

-Language allows me to express... -That's right, yes.

...how four weeks can be years.

It is the malleable surface of a white page.

Have you shown these to anyone?

The best.

Skin, scars...

People always ask me why my work is so dark.

What do you know about pain, Lidia?

I know

that it matters to me.

I'll take care of you.

Do you understand?

Ask me what you want now.

That's not true, angel.

I...

...wants you to...

Knock it out of me.

...whip me.

Where do you want to be whipped, angel?

Everywhere.

Take it somewhere.

Take the pain somewhere.

Mother.

I am proud of you.

I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable.

I try to be precise.

IV. REVIVALS

"Then mom whined, dad smelled my pussy.

"My finest hour has arrived," he explained.

I was sure what he meant. It's the moment of truth.

I go on, on, on, jerk off.

My hands are going to break. I don't even recognize my body.

Doesn't matter. I know you're mine. I made you, I'm making you.

I swore to live for pleasure. My tongue is huge. It reaches down to my waist.

You see your real father in his moment of truth.

Almighty God, nothing matters. You are my God, my daughter.

I worship you. Make it so I can satisfy you. Look at it.

It's big in my corkscrew hand. Kiss it.

My father explained again, I am God and I created God. Goddammit!

Just look at God and he is happy because I made him come.

God is in heaven. I am in heaven and I have died.

I'm coming all over your face. I licked up his cum.

-This disgusts me.

ALLEGORIES OF VIOLENCE

Who the hell do you think you are?

My father's daughter.

I am a woman who talks to herself in lies.

Damn it.

Year one.

Vodka!

I drink vodka, mostly all the time.

-A shot straight in, straight in. -And felt nothing about myself.

We drink, we laugh, we fuck. We make fucking body paint shadows.

We do performance art. We perform ourselves.

Damn you, God!

Open the door!

Carving each other's names into our arms.

I did it for you!

We fuck infected.

It was right in front of me, Devin. I saw exactly what happened.

-You don't even understand. -What?!

That I will marry you.

For Mike and Dorothy!

I'm so glad they fucked.

To jump to year six when underwater stories start to rub off

and screams start a rhythm where the drinking gets louder...

Go and kiss women I know and don't know!

What is a couple over time if not a replica?

I'll give you a fucking retort. Your fucking bullshit is taking over the house!

It was taking over the house.

I don't want to fuck.

I want to read.

Damn you.

I didn't want to drink.

I wanted to write.

What is a couple over time?

Year seven. I finished my thesis.

In year eight I earned a doctorate.

Year ten.

We pretend.

You said

that you would love me until I die.

You said we would die together in love.

You told me.

Where are you?

Where is the man?

Who would love a woman like me?

Don't dare.

The date for your reading aloud is June 15, 1998.

"The date of your reading aloud."

What then?

Welcome up...

...reads an excerpt from his first collection of short stories "Her Other Mouths".

Lidia Yuknavitch.

Lidia, welcome up.

"The day my daughter was born.

After I held the future.

Still-born.

And pink.

And rosy-lipped.

And rose-lipped in my trembling arms.

Small tragedies are hard to keep track of.

Chronology convinces us that we are moving towards a real place.

'Swimmers, in your places.'

A gunshot.

A gunshot released our tense flesh.

Fathers were often untenable while the little women swam for their lives.

'Swim.

Swim!

Hurry!

Come on, honey.

Harder.

Harder!

Faster!'

A cacophony of men swelling

and presses down against the wet movement.

How many times did I slip into the chlorinated depths

and secretly hoped to shed this worthless skin

and get something out...

...amphibious

and genderless?

The thing is

that this thing about letting it all in

and wait and see what comes out

is scary

and idiotic.

And it's starting to piss me off.

that I even have to think about it all.

What I'm saying is...

There's a woman in a room who's tired of looking down

and bleed

and endure, long and yearn

and am tired of being open

without hope of sewing itself together.

It's not that I want it to disappear.

That's just it.

that I want...

To want...

...come from somewhere else.

There are moments years apart that emerge with great power."

-Remind me why we're here.

-I thought it was your idea. -I came here with you.

Delusion.

Grown women are idiots.

I don't know.

She begged.

Lydia! Lydia!

-Turn him around.

-Help me!

"Kill.

Or suck back the killing.

And pump it in

in the story of someone else.

My father lost his memory from lack of oxygen that day.

I didn't kill him.

I didn't save him.

"I'm learning to live on land."

Thank you for...

Have your parents read the story? What do they think about it?

Have a great time in New York. Get an agent.

Lidia, so nice to meet you. Thank you for being here.

Excuse me.

Do you have anything...

...a little stronger?

Tack.

Carol Houck Smith, Norton Publishing.

It's really impressive what you did up there.

Tack.

No, seriously. It didn't look easy.

Is there anything else that came from there?

Maybe something a little longer?

You should send me something.

That's just it.

that something in me had been born...

...stillborn.

V. THE OTHER SIDE OF DROWNING

It's a small stone I carry.

The shame of wanting something good.

My life!

Fucking garbage.

Hey, what are you doing? Keep working.

Hello.

The chopping block. Peer evaluation.

Who wants to start?

It's very helpful. You can't live a wrong life.

That's the story you were told. Yours is just as important. It's your own.

It must hurt, but I'm happy for you.

I don't give a damn!

Something small and specific caught my attention,

an important detail,

a bruise on the bridge of her nose

which made me realize that her eyes were blue, like mine.

How much?

I pay her pimp $100. I ask her to come in.

I ask her to sit down.

In the story I say:

"This is what it feels like to be me."

A woman who teaches English,

looking down on a woman sucking cocks

who sits on my couch all day

and smokes.

When I look at her, I think she looks like Maria.

When I see a picture of Christ

I imagine Maria so haggard, emaciated and tired

and so angry to the point of being emaciated that she can barely bear her face.

In the story I say:

"What should I do?

Teach her?"

This is what I, an addict on the rise,

I think when I am given something as infinitesimally small as words to believe in.

I'm looking at her.

Offers words.

People tell me all the time:

"Did those things in your stories really happen?"

Isn't that the question?

when it comes to life?

Did this really happen to me?

Andy.

I don't know.

Things that happen to us are true.

But writing is a completely different thing.

I was hoping we could discuss my script.

Of course. Sure.

I also want to lend you my car.

I saw you take the bus.

and I happen to have two cars.

You can understand a lot about a person when you see them in the water.

Tack.

-For what? -Because I got to swim with you.

I read a couple of your stories. I know swimming is a big deal.

I always let my students choose their seat.

I wanted to say that I've seen you a couple of times before.

I read that Ken Kesey taught at the university,

when I was abroad. I applied for the course,

but it was already over.

-That was like hell. How funny! -Yeah, I know.

I saw you hobbling around in the creative writing department.

I was at the reading you did at Gerlinger.

That's weird. Weird.

Strange.

It was a strange day for me.

Why?

My father...

...was mine...

My father...

From the lighthouse?

...abused me.

From the lighthouse.

How then?

Sexually.

It sucks.

I hope he got a big karma slap.

He actually got it.

That was good.

It was a long time ago. I was a completely different person then.

So, teacher, are you going to take my car?

I don't really know how to tell you how I feel.

to see the little woman swimming for her life.

I mean...

Are you completely fucking crazy?

The best.

You think I'm someone else.

I can see the mother in you.

There is more to your story than you think.

-That's great. -That's it.

Very nice.

We're just going to go this way, to the left.

And the room?

They said it would be ready tomorrow, for sure.

It must have been a strange ride.

Tack.

You never have to say thank you to me.

-I'm fine. -Are you sure?

Sure.

Hey, Dad.

-Marilou? -No, it's me. It's Lidia.

I know, old man.

I have read this book.

-Yes? -Yes.

Do you know who wrote it?

Of.

That's right.

Did you read all the stories?

It was one about swimming.

I liked it.

Tack.

But not very flattering to me.

I won an award for that story.

I had to go to New York.

Yes, not bad.

It's nice here.

It's a real home you have here.

Well done.

Well done of you.

The safest memories are locked in the brains of people who don't remember.

Take her, Mike!

You know I don't swim. - Claudia, get your sister!

Underwater forever.

There you go, friend.

Look, I'm 'immuring!

What is it?

The water will go into my nose, my ears, and into my brain.

Miles...

How many times have you seen mom swim?

Many times, right?

Have you ever thought about

that I've never had water on my brain?

The water has never entered my brain.

Do you want to see? Watch this.

Tell me how much water is going into my brain. Okay?

Do you see?

Okay, pull.

I have a very important game.

I'm going to put my whole head under the water.

And we'll look at each other underwater.

-What kind of game is that? -I made it up.

The key is

to find shit.

What I'm saying is not nonsense.

Come in.

The water will hold you.

Undertexter: Lisa Di Biaggio www.junefirst.tv