Zach:
What have you got against my typewriter?
Alex:
You used to write on it. Books and plays and movies. Once, once you wrote me a poem on our 2nd anniversary and gave it to me. And you were happy. You exorcised your demons with credible thoughts and good words on that typewriter, and your talent turned me on. I really thought we had a chance "until death do us part," and then one day you stopped. You gave up.
Zach:
I dried up. It happens to writers.
Alex:
Oh, so you bury yourself with the first available young female that comes along, in the hopes that she's going to magically restore your lost talent?
Zach:
Alex...
Alex:
No, don't say it. This is a lecture. Not a debate. And since I don't intend to speak to you for the rest of this lifetime, you either get out now, or shut up and let me finish.
[Zach listens]

Alex:
I'm not saying that your condition is unique. In fact, quite a few older men do the same thing.
Zach:
How about a few older women?
Alex:
If your trying to redeem yourself by implying that I might have been unfaithful to you, you're barking up the wrong older woman. I could have, but regrettably didn't. I threw out that typewriter because it represents everything that could have been loving and lasting and wonderful, and everything that wasn't.
Zach:
Can I say something please?
Alex:
No! No! No! You have 20 minutes to get your things and get out of this house forever, or I will get a restraining order and have you removed!
Riportata da il 05/03/2025 alle ore 08:19

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