All language subtitles for Mr.Robot.S02E03.HDTV.x264-KILLERS

How do I take off a mask
when it stops being a mask,

when it's as much a part of me as I am?

- 10:00 a.m.
- Amen.

12:00 p.m.

Life, love...

- 2:00 p.m.
- I'm Ray.

To stay as sane as
possible until he's gone.

I am not to be gotten rid of!

I find you refreshing... young, bold...

exactly what we need right now.

The FBI believes that I
was behind the hack.

Gideon's gonna rat you out.

Something ain't right about this guy.

Bang!

I don't trust him.

We are in a war, and they are
picking us off one by one.

Tyrell Wellick and fsociety
engaged in this attack.

Bonsoir, Elliott.

All right, man, explain
this to me again.

Why are you taking me to an arcade?

Well, I'm trying to tell
you, but you don't listen.

That's the problem with
your generation...

too ADD to really take in this world.

All right, all right,
break it down for me.

Well, to really get it,

I got to take you back to 1924.

Husband-and-wife team, the Bedfords,

opened up a freak show/ dwarf sanctuary

on this land you're about to be at.

Dwarf sanctuary?

Yeah, they called it the
Bedford Lilliputian...

a whole miniature city

scaled down for dwarf
and midget inhabitants.

I mean, they also had other freaks

like lion-faced man, limbless
woman, shit like that.

But the dwarves were the big moneymaker.

Suffice to say, the
Bedfords were a big hit...

lines around the corner,

the biggest attraction out
here in Coney Island.

Then one year, rumor has it,

the husband wakes up
one Christmas morning,

grabs a large kitchen knife,
slices his wife's throat open,

stabs his little kids to death,
then slits his own wrists.

- Huh.
- No motive was ever determined.

God.

Cut to the 1960s.

Woman named Mary Meghan Fisher
decided to buy up the place,

turned it into an old-school arcade...

pinball machines, Skee-Ball, the likes.

Called it "Games Games Games."

Shit, a bit on the nose, if you ask
me, not to mention repetitive,

but at least it had clarity.

Mary Meghan even installed a little bar
so she could get drunk with her friends

and shoot pool at night.

And so she did, almost every night...

till one time in '86,
she got so liquored up,

she accidentally fell off the barstool

and landed hard on the
pool cue she was holding.

Oh.

Went right through her neck, clean.

Killed her right on the spot.

What in the f... are you
telling me this for, man?

Place remained dormant until 2000,

when Ned Bosham bought up
the joint under the name

Fun Society Amusement LLC.

Ned wanted to reopen it
as a classic arcade.

Now, why anyone would want
to start an arcade in 2000

beats me, but Ned Bosham
had it in his mind

that that's what he wanted
to do, and so he did.

About a year ago, his oldest
son, Harold, wanted to sell it,

but Ned wasn't down with that.

So the oldest son, Harold, being
simpleminded and needing money

for whatever simpleminded
folks need money for,

decided Dad had to go.

So Harold stole his twin
brother's hunting rifle

and shot Dad in the face.

Now, what Harold wasn't counting on,

considering he had never
fired a weapon before,

was the kickback.

It kicked back so hard,
he tripped and fell

out of his dad's 20-story window.

By the time he hit the
ground, his head opened up

like one of those Gallagher watermelons.

All this commotion stirred
awake his twin brother, Clyde,

who, as he told it to
me, was in his bedroom

catching some Zs when
all this went down.

By the time he got his bearings,

he was immediately arrested
for the double homicide

of his brother and father,

being the weapon was in his name.

And how do you know Clyde?

He was my cellmate.

This place made him crazy.

He thinks it's cursed.

Yeah. No shit, Sherlock.

Before I left the clink, he
gave me the keys to the joint

and made me swear to burn it down

before it caused any more ruckus.

He swears it's haunted...

believes it is the nexus of
all evil in the universe.

You buy into any of this shit?

F... no, man.

I'm too broke to be superstitious.

In a way, all this hocus-pocus
keeps things clean

for whatever it is you need to do.

The public records are in limbo.

People down in county don't
even want to touch the place.

I'm siphoning electricity from the grid.

As far as anyone's
concerned, it don't exist.

Now, on the market, this
joint would run you

about 5 grand a month,
but since it's you,

I'll give it to your guy for half.

Come on, Mobley, don't
give me that look, man.

You know how hard it is for
an ex-con to get a job.

Money's tight,

especially with my mom's cataracts.

The bills are adding up.

I'm not here to rent from you, Romero.

I want you to work with us.

Oh, hell no, man. I just got out.

I ain't trying to go back no time soon.

Just hear my guy out, okay?

We need a phreaker.

Now, you know you're
the best in the game.

Don't try to sweet-talk
me, motherf... er.

I don't need you to tell me
who's the best in the game.

I invented the shit, okay?

Now, either you're renting,
or I'm finding somebody else,

but I cannot get mixed up in
whatever it is you're doing.

Man, this is a chance to
get back at the system

that stole six years of your life.

This is a game changer, man.

Who's this guy, again?

He's, uh... he's a little weird.

But, uh, he's gonna love this place.

He's got a thing for Coney Island.

You'll like him.

Actually, you'll hate him.

But he's a genius.

Best coder I've ever met.

And he wants to meet you.

How much?

Aw, don't smile. I ain't said yes yet.

Money's gonna be the
deciding factor in all this,

and it's gonna need to be a
whole lot to bring me back in.

That's the thing, man.

In a way,

this pays everything.

What happened to the U and the N?

Oh, that?

That's a story for another time.

- sync and corrections by Caio -
- www.addic7ed.com -

Panic. Here it comes again.

Remember?

That sudden sensation of fear,

overwhelming fear,

burrowing its way underneath my brain,

making itself at home...

Nesting...

Screaming in my mind.

It's good to hear your voice.

Where are you?

Not yet where I'm supposed to be.

But soon, very soon.

Protestors are taking to the
street in massive numbers,

and police and community leaders

are at a loss as to what
to do at this point,

citing that...

And where is that?

I don't think that's a good idea.

You think someone's listening?

Don't tell me you're
having second thoughts.

You don't want me to
have to worry about you.

I need to know what's going on.

It's not safe.

I wish it were.

Oh, how I wish.

How I wish.

I think about you a lot, Elliot.

I think about that night

when we became gods.

That night...

I want to know what happened.

Tell me what happened.

Like he said, it's not safe,

not on the phone.

I'm not gonna let you make me a prisoner

of my own paranoia again.

If you're not paranoid,

you need me more than you think you do.

We had a deal.

You wanted to talk to him.

I delivered.

It's not my fault he's loony tunes.

He really expects me to believe this?

Did we really talk to the most
wanted man on the planet?

Why the f... are you asking them?

You heard him. You talked to him.

I talk to you too.

What do you want, huh?

We had a deal. I delivered!

What more do you want?

What I've always wanted:

for the panic to finally stop.

Shocking news from last night,

Gideon Goddard, owner and CEO
of Allsafe Cybersecurity,

considered ground zero for
the Five/Nine attacks,

was shot dead at a bar in Manhattan.

The suspected murderer
surrendered at the scene.

The alleged gunman,

whose name has yet to be released...

But it won't.

Described by law enforcement sources

as disgruntled, unemployed,

and having a history of mental illness.

Just don't know why you
can't send me a new one.

You ain't even with E Corp.

Well, I guess I never figured

you were all in bed together like that.

How am I supposed to pay the bills

if my autopay stopped working?

Okay, somebody's at the door.

Guess I got to call you back.

Uh-huh, like you give a shit.

Door's open.

Come on in.

Hi, Mrs. Romero.

Oh.

I don't know where he at.

Ain't seen him for a bit.

Probably downstairs.

You know how he is.

Just comes and goes, goes and comes.

Rome!

Yo, Rome!

Where you at, man?

Rome?

Whoa.

What the f... is that smell, man?

Rome?

Rome?

Shit.

But has become a citywide
epidemic for families as well.

Now let's check in with Jessie

for our five borough weather report.

Oh, thank you, Chris. I
wish I could tell you...

Got those at Mel's.

Beautiful, huh?

Sad to see his shop shut down.

Mm.

Mmm.

Was gonna leave it to his nephew too.

Kid with the burnt face.

You know what I'm talking about?

What's his name?

Mm.

Can't think of it.

Anyway, with everything
going on with the trucking,

Mel says fresh deliveries
just aren't coming through.

'Sides, now that the allowance

is down to just $50 a day,

no one's spending it on flowers.

Hmm.

I swear, the only way I'm
getting through this

is having breakfast with you.

Mets won again.

It's gonna be their year.

Yeah, I know.

I know, I know, I know, I know.

Ready, y'all?

Pick up.

Ah, damn. Come on.

Can't never do it with that shit!

Take it easy with that dosage, cuz.

I ain't your keeper, and I damn straight

ain't gonna be your
reaper neither, you dig?

- Let's go!
- Come on!

What problem you trying
to solve anyway, man?

How do I tell him that
someone I cared about died?

I'm fine.

You know, that's what
you always saying, man.

So we're back to the morphine?

Don't listen, man.

What do you think that's going
to accomplish, exactly?

It's not morphine.

It's Adderall.

This is your fault.

All of it.

Now it's time to get rid of you.

When a computer gets hit
with a kernel panic,

there's only so much you can do.

An internal fatal error

is hard to recover from.

I mean, listen to that:

internal fatal error.

Sounds pretty fucking bad, you ask me.

But OD'ing on Adderall
was finally my way

of controlling him.

Do you have a moment, Mr. Alderson?

Is this the FBI?

Did Gideon rat me out?

Come on!

Help!

Help!

No! No!

_

This is a New Lots
Avenue-bound four train.

This is a Brooklyn-bound
two express train.

Next stop is DeKalb Avenue.

Stand clear of the
closing doors, please.

Elliot and I both warned you

it was a liability he sold drugs.

God damn it.

Why are you being such an asshole?

He's dead.

Did anyone see you?

Just his mom.

What did you want me to do?

She was upstairs.

F..., Darlene.

What did we do?

Where am I?

Where am I?

What are you doing?

What's that for?

What's that for?

No, no, wait.

No.

No!

No! I have them! No!

That's it.

Get that Adderall out of your system.

Good boy.

That's it, get those shitty pills

out of your system.

I have burrowed underneath your brain.

I am nested there.

I am the scream in your mind.

You will cooperate, my son.

I will make you, because I own you!

Argh!

I will not be owned.

First, I want to offer my condolences.

Terrible news about your old boss.

I hear he was a good man.

Very unfortunate when bad
things happen to good people.

Thank you, sir.

I've been pretty broken up about it.

Second, this interview
that you've set up,

it's all wrong.

I want to do Fox instead of Bloomberg.

No preinterview, and I
want final approval

of all questions beforehand.

I'm on it.

Mr. Price?

I think this is a mistake.

Frankly, Fox isn't where
we should be right now.

Bloomberg is where investors
get their business news,

and if our goal is to reassure them...

Sit down.

Have you ever had dinner at Fidelio's?

No.

I haven't.

Used to be a dive bar years ago.

It's since turned into one
of the nicest restaurants

in the city.

I know the chef.

He's very good.

I'll have Marcel make a reservation.

You've never had semifreddo

until you've had it there.

Okay.

I'll arrange a car to pick you up.

Saturday, 8:00.

And, uh, yes, you're right.

Bloomberg... it's more appropriate.

We'll stick with that.

Thank you, sir.

I've noticed you always look at that

before you leave my office.

Perhaps you find it as
fascinating as I do...

How a man can change the whole world

with a bullet in the right place.

Oh, no, what does that say?

Don't fall over.

_

You okay? You okay?

_

I don't want to go to
sleep another night

not knowing you're not gonna be my wife.

Oh, my God.

Emilia, will you marry me?

Next on "Million Dollar
Listing New York"...

Am I gonna be dealing with you...

Alexa, what time is it?

It is 4:03 a.m.

That's it, not a penny more.

Whatever she says goes.

Alexa, stop.

Whew, sorry. Something's going around.

Victim's mother's back at the station.

Didn't get much from her.

Down here.

All we got on the victim so far is,

he's a known hacker with a record.

Got busted in '08.

Served six years for some
small-time computer fraud stuff.

It's okay. I got gloves on.

Well, it doesn't matter
much if you sneeze...

On them. Okay.

Tell you what, why don't
you hold this still?

We're still looking, but
it looks like he only

printed out these three sheets
from the full FBI roster.

We contacted everyone here
at the New York office.

You're the first to respond.

It doesn't mean much.

Thousands of FBI names
and contact details

were leaked a few months back.

Every hacker has this.

What are they doing?

Uh, it's Forensics.

We found his desktop unlocked.

Uh, once we're done analyzing it,

we'll send a full report.

Did you have them check if the
ports were modified at all

before using them?

- Whoa!
- Shit!

Fire extinguisher.

Well...

Here's my card in case
you find anything else.

Thanks again for calling me.

I'd really talk to your
doctor about getting a Z-Pak.

You really shouldn't be out
here infecting your whole unit.

It's very irresponsible of you.

_

_

According to the police report,

there was no sign of a robbery.

Someone was there

with the sole purpose of offing him.

You're jumping to conclusions.

What about that Allsafe guy?

That's two murders in a row

associated with this hack.

They caught the guy.

It was just some wack-job.

Besides, I don't really care
discussing this with you,

given how easily you forgot
about what we started.

What, because I don't care
for stupid high jinks

like burning money in
the middle of a park?

That stupid high jinks

is killing public confidence in E Corp,

which is exactly what we
need to be doing right now.

We might be getting
executed by the Dark Army,

and this is what you'd
rather be discussing?

It's not the Dark Army.

They don't know Romero

or the two of you.

They only communicate through me,

and I sure as shit didn't
tell them anything.

You're not the only
person they've talked to.

He wouldn't do that.

The state Elliot's in, we don't know...

Don't say what you're thinking.

You don't want to listen to reason,

that's on you.

But I'm taking off.

I'm not sticking around to be next.

I'm gonna stay with my buddy in Arizona.

If they wanted us dead,
we'd be dead already.

Besides, if you're just
gonna end up in Arizona,

then being dead isn't
that much of a downgrade.

Ha-ha.

Then what do you suggest we do, then?

I'll talk to Elliot.

I'll hit you both when I get more info.

Until then,

stop spazzing...

And be cool.

I don't trust her

or her crazy-ass brother.

You know he tried to
pull a gun on Romero?

Think about it, Trenton.

They're the only two that
talked to the Dark Army.

Now they're trying to tell us
the Dark Army isn't involved.

What are you saying?

I'm saying we just committed
the crime of the century,

and they're trying to
cover their tracks.

And right now, we're the tracks.

A lot of life is a balancing act.

We're all just doing our best,

tightrope walking above
that pit of ungodly pain

that's daring us to trip up.

Take money and health.

One isn't very useful without
the other, you know?

Case in point:

even though you've been paid handsomely,

the physical condition
you're in right now

kind of cancels that out.

And I'd like to say upfront...

I'm very sorry this happened to you.

The guys I deal with,
they can be ruthless.

Me, I'm more of a positive
reinforcement kind of guy.

You know, I just happen to
think it's more productive.

Nevertheless, that don't change
what's been done to you.

The person who did this

will get proportionate retribution.

On that tip, I still need you
to fix this thing for me.

Our site's been down way too long.

Good news is, once you bring it back up,

you will get your money,

and, in time, God willing,

your health.

That's all I want to do here...

help put your life back in balance.

They keep emptying the Bitcoin wallets,

and the server keeps crashing.

I don't know how to stop it.

I only know basic network
security measures.

You have to find someone who...

who can migrate the site to another,

more secure location

and set up a system of
hot and cold wallets.

Just...

Please...

Please.

I can't... I can't figure it out.

I could try to convince him again.

Just because you beat a
man's face to a pulp

don't mean he gonna know what he don't.

We're not animals.

We need to find someone who
can do that migration thing

he keep talking about.

This heat wave is a motherf... er.

What's the high supposed to be today?

What you looking at me for?

Turn on the goddamn weather
station, let's go.

Can I tell you a secret?

It's been three days since I slept.

I'm up to about 200 milligrams now.

But that's not the secret.

He's gone.

You heard me.

He's gone.

It was so simple.

I'm way more aware now.

I'm way more focused.

And I'm feeling 100%.

He's gone. He's gone.

He's gone.

The Adderall is working,

and f... if this drug doesn't feel good.

I can even handle talking with people.

Yo, bro, he's like...

Even Leon's stupid "Seinfeld" philosophy

is starting to sound fascinating.

So... so he just... he just...

he just ran out of the party,

pushing old people aside?

That's so funny. Was there even a fire?

I mean, that's classic
George, am I right?

I don't like this, bro.

Why haven't I done this before?

Damn, these dishes look immaculate.

I'm pretty sure I even found God.

Amen!

Amen!

Amen, Amen, Amen!

Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen!

Amen! Amen!

Even the dumb basketball
game is enthralling.

The ball goes into a hoop.

Of course.

Whoo!

Slam dunk!

We can finally be back to normal.

It'll just be me and you, my friend.

We'll dine together.

Maybe I'll read to you.

Or we'll just talk.

But the point is,

he's gone,

and now it's just us.

You're not buying any of this either.

Are you?

It was feeling good

for a few days.

It really was,

wasn't it?

But this is the fifth
day of not sleeping,

I think.

Fifth...

Isn't that a funny word?

Shit.

There it is again.

The overwhelming fear building,

the burrowing,

the nesting,

the scream.

Stoob Dnalamit Gniraew eb Egroeg.

Dna gnihtyreve dna ogol eht htiw,

sdrawkcab edosipe elohw eht
yalp yehT "layarteB ehT."

Eb ot tog sah tsepod eht.

I know, I know, Leon's
talking backwards.

This isn't good.

Yeah, I know.

That's very weird too.

My internal fatal error...

From which my system
cannot safely recover.

Kernel panic.

Day number six without sleep.

I'm crashing.

Next, my consciousness will go.

The panic isn't settling in anymore.

It's just there.

The scream in my mind is coming back.

You are likable.

You are attractive.

You are beautiful.

Revolution!

Revolution!

- What is that solution?
- Revolution!

Phillip Price, please.

Your party's here.

Do you want me to show you to the table?

Angela.

Yes, come. Please, please.

I'd like you to meet two
of your colleagues.

Gentlemen, introduce yourselves.

Saul Weinberg,

managing director of operations.

Hi. Angela. It's nice to meet you.

Jim Chutney, SVP of B.A.

Angela.

Phillip Price, master of the universe.

All right.

Yes.

Yes, yes, yes, yes.

Because of the situation,

you have to pay upfront now.

Well, a toast.

May new relationships

lead to new opportunities.

_

_

Oh, God.

Alexa, when is the end of the world?

Unless it collides
with a very large rock

or a future technology
goes very wrong indeed,

Earth is most likely to be destroyed

when the sun swells into a red giant

in several billion years' time.

Right.

I know you... you want
me to talk about myself,

but I don't...

The Adderall's almost out of my system.

With that, sleep will return.

Any second now, he's gonna come back,

and my mind will be under siege again.

This isn't something, like, I-I...

Mr. Robot has become my god,

and like all gods,

their madness takes you prisoner.

There was this...

I guess I couldn't avoid
Gideon's death after all.

My dam of guilt is finally cracking.

I want to cry, but I'm
so high that I can't.

There was an Indian man
working behind the counter,

and I made fun of his accent.

And talk like this.

"Hello, how you doing?"

And one day, he stood up for himself.

"Sir, I must ask you to leave."

And something snapped in me,

and I just popped him in the face.

I saw red, man.

I just... I just kept punching
him and punching him.

And I hated him so much.

He was Indian.

But it was raining.

There was a thunderstorm,

and I remember stepping outside.

And the clouds parted,

and the sun came out.

And I knew that that was God

showing up for me in that moment.

He forgave me.

Jesus loves you.

And this was clearly just a test.

Amen.

Elliot, would you like to share?

No, man.

My system's hung.

God can help you.

Is that what God does?

He helps?

Tell me,

why didn't God help my innocent friend

who died for no reason

while the guilty roam free?

Okay, fine.

Forget the one-offs.

How about the countless wars

declared in his name?

Okay, fine.

Let's skip the random,
meaningless murder for a second,

shall we?

How about the racist,

sexist, phobia soup

we've all been drowning
in because of him?

And I'm not just talking about Jesus.

I'm talking about all
organized religion...

exclusive groups

created to manage control,

a dealer getting people hooked

on the drug of hope,

his followers nothing but addicts

who want their hit of bullshit

to keep their... their
dopamine of ignorance,

addicts afraid to believe the truth...

that there is no order,

there's no power,

that all religions are just

metastasizing mind worms

meant to divide us

so it's easier to rule us

by the charlatans that want to run us.

All we are to them are paying fanboys

of their poorly written
sci-fi franchise.

If I don't listen to
my imaginary friend,

why the f... should I listen to yours?

People think their worship's

some key to happiness.

That's just how he owns you.

Even I'm not crazy enough

to believe that distortion of reality.

So f... God.

He's not a good enough scapegoat for me.

Please tell me I didn't
say all of that out loud.

Shit. I did.

Angela and I are going
to have one more drink.

Oh, of course.

Of course.

Thank you for dinner, Phillip.

Mm-hmm.

Don't get up.

It was good to have met you.

Pleasure meeting you, Angela.

Now remember, come see us anytime.

We'll have lunch.

On you.

So...

did you enjoy the semifreddo?

Was it all I promised?

Yes.

Excellent!

Absolutely. It was delicious.

Good.

And good company.

Jim's been with us for 27 years.

He's a Harvard guy... lives upstate.

Three kids... two in
college, one in high school.

Company man through and through.

He's the reason we do our
Toys for Tots program.

And Saul is the chair

of our nonprofit arm.

Good man as well.

He has grandkids, so he's...

he's a little ahead in
the family department.

Oh, and another thing
they have in common:

they were both in the room with Colby

when they made that grave error

covering up the leak in your hometown.

Hmm.

Ordinary men...

Capable of extraordinary things.

Our CFO has discovered that
within the last two years,

both Jim and Saul have
been engaged in some

nasty insider trading.

Thick as thieves, these two.

They like to buddy up on
their white-collar crimes...

a regular Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

There's enough evidence in there

to put them away for years.

I should get home.

Your car will be out front.

Whatever you're doing, I don't trust it.

You're panicking right now.

I understand.

It's a big decision you're making,

because these men,

their lives will be destroyed.

But the minute you remove
emotion from this...

You'll do just fine.

Heard you had an interesting night.

Chaplain's an old friend.

I threw it out for a reason.

I figured you might want it

for down the road.

Trust me, I've been there.

Five years,

seven months, three weeks,

and two days ago,

my wife passed away.

A few weeks of being
frozen in my own grief,

I woke up one morning,

fixed myself breakfast
like I normally do,

plugged myself into my dialysis machine

like I normally do,

and started talking...

out loud.

For a second, I thought I was crazy.

Moved on with the day.

Then the next day, I did it again...

talked out loud...

and the next.

And then I realized
who I was talking to.

Why are you telling me all of this?

'Cause you and me

are a lot more alike
than you think, Elliot.

Are you crazy?

How the hell you knocking
on my door this early?

I'm sorry, Mrs. Romero.

I'm Dominique DiPierro with the FBI.

I'm assisting Homicide
on your son's case.

I know it's early, but I just
had a few more questions

about your son's murder.

I already talked to the police!

I know the cops took all your joints.

I looked through your files.

I also know you have arthritis

and probably can't roll 'em yourself,

so I'm guessing your son did.

I can help roll 'em for
you if you'd like.

Used to do it all the
time for my kid brother

back in high school.

He always told me I was
pretty bomb at it.

All right!

You can come on in.

Mmm.

Yeah, it's tight.

Not perfect,

but definitely doable.

Yeah, it's not as fat
as my dear Leslie's.

That boy wasn't around much,

but he was always doing for me.

Always.

God bless him.

I see you're moving out.

Ah, yeah.

I can't stay here no more.

I raised Leslie here,

Huh. Too many memories here.

Did he go anywhere or
do anything suspicious?

Any small detail could help.

Well, he be fooling around
with those computers.

You guys know that.

He always did that since he was little.

I never understood it.

Gobbledygook, if you ask me.

Did he have any friends?

Did anyone ever come to the house?

Friends?

Leslie didn't have no friends,

except that chubby boy.

You mind if you get me...

grab me a glass of water?

Should be some in the boxes.

Oh, yeah, of course.

That's right, you told the
cops someone did come,

but you didn't see him, right?

Nope, not with these cataracts.

I can barely make you out from my cat.

Where is that thing, anyway?

Probably ran off like everyone else.

Did he say his name?

Have you seen him before?

Nope.

My mind was dancing in the clouds.

All I know is, I can't
live here no more.

Now that I don't owe
anymore on the place,

maybe I can just rent it.

Yeah. Man.

Besides, I need the money.

$19 million.

What do I do?

Why did you start writing that
journal in the first place?

I thought it was the right answer.

The right answer to what?

Controlling my life.

My wife...

well, she drove her car that day.

She did everything right.

She always wore her seat belt,

hands at 10:00 and 2:00.

She was the most perfect
driver I'd ever met.

It was... it was annoying.

She stayed in the lines.

Never went above or
below the speed limit.

Stopped at traffic signs.

She followed every rule.

And then one day, none of that mattered.

Control is about as real

as a one-legged unicorn taking a leak

at the end of a double rainbow.

Then what do we have?

You know that bullshit
people say about how

when you fall,

you got to get up?

I reject that shit, man.

You know why?

The whole thing is a fall.

It can't help but be.

A perpetual state of
grasping in the dark.

It's not about getting up.

It's about stumbling,

stumbling in the right direction.

It's the only true way to move forward.

Whoever it is you wrote
about in your journal,

do you still see him?

I can tell the person
you're writing about

meant something to you.

Sometimes he takes over?

That's why you don't remember things?

I shouldn't have come.

I don't want to talk about this.

Yes, you do.

'Cause you're smart enough to know

that keeping this inside

isn't going to last.

You play chess?

I've been looking for a good adversary.

Want to play?

What do you think?

Is Ray right?

Maybe it's not about avoiding the crash.

But it's about setting a breakpoint

to find the flaw in the code,

fix it, and carry on

until we hit the next flaw...

the quest to keep going,

to always fight for footing.

Maybe we're all just stumbling
from the right questions

to the wrong answers...

Or from the right answers
to the wrong questions.

It doesn't matter where you go

or where you come from,

as long as you keep stumbling.

Maybe that's all it takes.

Maybe that's as good as it gets.

You got to be fucking kidding me.

- sync and corrections by Caio -
- www.addic7ed.com -