What about you saying that things happen that leave marks … in people, in space, in time?
Brenda
Yeah, that's physics. Energy affecting matter. Talking to dead people is delusional.
So you definitely don't believe in any kind of a life after death?
Brenda
I think people live on through the people they love and the things they do with their lives … if they manage to do things with their lives.
But that's it, that's it? That's all there is, there's nothing more, there's nothing like bigger?
Brenda
Just energy.
Brenda
No, there's definitely no plan. Just survival. Should I have ordered the salmon?
Uh, I don't know. How can you live like that? I mean, what if you found out you were gonna die tomorrow?
Brenda
I've been prepared to die tomorrow since I was six years old.
Brenda
Yeah, pretty much. We never got butter.
Well, why, since you were six?
Brenda
Because I read a report on the effect nuclear war would have on the world, and it was pretty clear to me at that point that this was definitely gonna happen.
Brenda
And I wake up every day pretty much surprised that, um … everything is still here.
Well, I don't understand how you can live like that.
Brenda
Well, I thought we all did.
[Brenda tells her massage client to roll onto his back. When he does so, she notices that he has an erection.]
CClient
Sorry. Happens to me all the time.
Brenda
Nothing I haven't seen before, so don't be embarrassed.
CClient
Who said I'm embarrassed?
Brenda
Hm. [laughs gently, tries to go back to her work] Okay. [stares at his erect penis and then at him. Puts her hand on it and gives him a strong handjob.]
[Nate and Brenda are talking about the book she is writing.]
Well, who's Christina? Is that your fictional alter ego? Your Holden Caulfield?
Brenda
She's more like my Humbert Humbert. [Nate stares blankly] You know, my Constance Chatterley. [Nate looks slightly confused] She's like Hermione in the Harry Potter books.
What would you rather have: some overly-educated gasbag like Trevor … or a semi-literate fuck machine like me? Come on.
Brenda
That's a no-brainer, no pun intended.
[Brenda browses through clothes in a department store when a saleswoman approaches her.]
SSaleswoman
Anything I can help you with?
Brenda
Yes, I'm looking for clothes so expensive only an idiot would buy them. [walks over to a skirt] Oh, there they are! [saleswoman walks away angrily]
[A male shopper smiles at Brenda as she buys clothes. They slowly approach each other.]
Brenda
Excuse me. [reaching for a skirt]
MMan
Be my guest. [Brenda slowly puts her hand on his and lightly brushes it with her fingertips. He reacts by slowly putting his hand on her butt. Brenda thinks for a moment and then moves his hand to her front and puts it up her dress. He starts giving her a handjob below her dress.]
SSaleswoman
Excuse me. Your wife would like you to see how she looks in her Jill Sanders sweater. [the man leaves.] And I think you should leave, or I'll have to call Security.
Brenda
[leaving] Do you validate?
Oh, you know what? You don't want to be with me, then don't, alright?
Brenda
Nate, I'm kidding, come on... Of course I want to be with you, I love you!
Yeah? Well then why do you treat me like shit all the time?
Brenda
Because I had a really fucked up life and I use sarcasm to hide how ridiculously vulnerable I really am... Hey, come on, Jesus, you know that.
It's hard sometimes, relationships aren't easy. You just have to work at it everyday. Can't expect everything to be perfect all the time, and can't get shaken when it isn't. If there's a moment when i feel like i'm in prison, I just have to think about all those moments when it feels safe, and remind myself that those moments outweigh the prison moments.
Brenda
Being alone is the prison, just thinking about yourself, just trapped in this fucking vortex, always watching yourself. Which, i suppose, is okay if you're interesting. The truth is: nobody is that interesting.
Of course, they're going to say nice things about you; they're your kids. But me, I'm a miserable prick who cares nothing about anybody but himself; and I look at you in your hospital bed, tired and worn-out from surgery and I selfishly wonder "How long must I wait before I can fuck you?"
Wow. Finally somebody said something right.
Brenda
It would have been weird if I'd said it.
Darlings, could you give us a moment?
Brenda
Oh, Mom, you're not going to –
I just want to be with Olivier for a minute.