Dr. Bird's Advice for Sad Poets (2021) - full transcript

In the emotionally charged, wild and humorous world of sixteen year old James Whitman, we see his struggle to overcome anxiety and depression by seeking advice from Dr. Bird - an imaginary pigeon therapist - in the wake of his sister's disappearance.

My father, The Brute,

says that reading Walt Whitman
is a waste of time

despite the fact that we share
the same last name.

And henceforth,

I will go celebrate
anything I see or am,

and sing and laugh

and deny nothing.

Come on, James,
catch me.

Run faster, James.

Come on, James.

Wait, Jorie.



Wait, Jorie.

Run faster, James.
Try and keep up.

Wait.

Stop, Jorie. Stop.

Where are you going?

Come on, James,
catch me.

Where are you?

Gone.

Gone.

You're gone.

My psychoanalyst, Dr. Bird,

has informed me
that I should try

and be more positive.

So, like Walt Whitman,



I wake up every morning
with a song of myself.

I say...

I am James Whitman.

I am light. I am truth.

I am might. I am youth.

I leap from my bed
to greet the day.

I brush my teeth
with enthusiasm.

Gargle with panache.

And evacuate my bowels
with distinction.

But no matter how hard I try
to be upbeat and optimistic,

a dark cloud
hovers over my brain.

One month ago today,

my sister, Jorie,
disappeared.

When I look deep
into my mind's eye,

I remember her like this.

What's wrong?

Nightmare?

This is my friend.
He eats bad dreams.

I want you to have him.

James!

Breakfast!

It's a terrific oatmeal, mom.

Uh, where's my spoon?

What is the face for?
I don't get a spoon anymore?

You don't live in this house?

You don't know
where the spoons are?

Really, it's just terrific,
mom. Thank you.

Do you know where the invoice
order forms are?

The invoice order forms?

What are you talking about?

What is this spice?
It's... It's so...

I don't work
at the restaurant, Carl.

- You live in this house.
- Tastes so exotic.

- It's cinnamon, honey.
- You know,

you're just as responsible
for what happens there as I am.

Oh, really?

- Yeah, really.
- Well, I'm so sorry

that I don't spend every hour
of my life there.

- Oh.
- That I don't actually

- hide out there to avoid...
- Right.

...coming home
and dealing with reality.

Did you ever hear me say,
"Don't come in today?"

Did you ever hear me say,
"Don't help in any way at all.

"Stay at home and collect
a bunch of useless

"community college degrees?"

Because I don't remember
saying that.

Well, maybe if I did go in,

I wouldn't have run off
all the employees

like you run everyone else off.

Well, that's my fault.
All right?

It's my fault she's gone?

That's my fault?

- Where are the chopsticks?
- I drive people away?

- There is supposed to be blue...
- And that one...

- ...and pink chopsticks.
- ...does it right there.

- You're coming with me.
- I'm not here.

I'm not here.

I'm not here.

I'm late. I got to go.

All right,
so, have a great day.

Listen,
I said white dress,

but when I got there
to the funeral...

Imagine butterflies

drawn in by
a flower so bright...

...they forget how to fly.

That's the feeling
I get from Sophie Seltzer.

♪ Why does my heart ♪

♪ Feel so bad ♪

♪ Why does my soul ♪

♪ Feel so bad ♪

♪ So bad ♪

Rumors about
what happened to my sister

spread across school
like a stomach virus

on a Caribbean cruise ship.

- She was abducted by aliens.
- Oh, my God.

She murdered a pimp
named Papa Smurf.

She had a sex-change operation
in Tijuana.

She converted to Islam
and now lives in a harem

as the fourth wife
to the Sultan of Brunei.

I don't know the truth.

All I know for sure
is The Brute kicked her out

of our home and no one's heard from her ever since.

- He's coming.
- The Enlightenment,

also known as
The Age of Enlightenment

or The Age of Reason,
was an intellectual movement

that dominated Europe
during the...

My best friend, Kwame,
emigrated to the U.S.

from Ghana when he was ten.

But while according to Mensa
he's a genius,

his grasp of the American idiom
was formed primarily

by watching 1980's teen
sex comedies on VHS tape.

If I'm "friendless,"

how could you
be friends with me?

I tell people that
you're my social experiment.

And that your mother pays me
to be your friend.

We should probably choose
just one.

Why, you crack baby?

Because if you
answer a question

with more than one answer,

people will know
that you're lying.

All the girls in school
love Kwame

because his father came out
of the closet in third grade.

I don't think this
is necessarily a good reason

to love anyone, but still...

I wish it had happened
to me instead.

In trying to solve
the differential equation

that describes space time,

Einstein had to come up
with a constant term

to avoid having the universe
collapse upon itself.

Whitman wrote that, "If anything
is sacred, the human body is sacred."

I'm pretty sure
he was referring specifically

to Sophie's left clavicle.

If I were a normal kid,

I'd just go up to her
and say something like...

Are you
a Middle-Eastern dictator?

No. Why?

Because there's a dangerous
uprising in my pants.

...the universe from collapsing.

Oh, God.
I overdid the return eye-roll.

Now she probably thinks
I'm spasmodic.

Or that I have some sort of
degenerative ocular disease.

Pop quiz!

Is she looking at me?

I think she's looking at me.
Is she? I think she's...

Son of a...

Of course all I want
is for her to look at me,

but now that she is,
my mind and body betray me.

Pencils down.

James!

I think my heart
might drown in its own blood.

You're Jorie's brother, right?

- Right.
- Okay.

Wait. Just a sec.
I'm coming down.

Your sister used to write poems
for the Conundrum.

Uh, the Conundrum?

The school literary magazine?

Oh, yeah, the Conundrum.

What, you know it?

Nope, never heard of it.

Uh, I read it every week.

It's a quarterly.

Um, anyway,

she did most of our poems,

she just put it
under a different name.

A pseudonym?

Exactly.

- You don't say.
- I just did.

Well, this is me.

Her touch is like the
explosion of a thousand atomic bombs.

You're a fucking cliche
of beauty.

What?

Nothing.

Anyhoo, um,

I feel really bad asking this.
I know Jorie's MIA

and it's probably a really
confusing time for you,

but it's sort of urgent.

Um, the Conundrum
is up for this

national student award
and Jorie promised

a graphic poem
for the final issue.

Graphic, like...

Explicit?

Graphic, like pictures
and words.

Not like sex and violence.

I see.

Anyways, I was...

I was wondering if maybe you
could look in her room for me?

I can do that.

Cool.

Thanks, James.

In my slow motion instant
replay memory of this moment,

I will see hundreds
of strands of her hair

floating down lit by sunlight.

I will become aware of freckles

that I've never noticed before.

I will realize that her lips

form the platonic ideal
of a plum.

I will want to say
something romantic

but all I can think
of is how...

- Beautiful.
- What?

Nothing.

Dr. Bird, I almost had a
full-blown "blitzkrieg" today.

I'm sorry
to hear that, James.

And how did this particular
"blitzkrieg" express itself?

Oh, the usual.

Excessive perspiration,
respiration, and palpitation.

And do you know
what set off

the panic attack this time?

Sophie Seltzer.

I see.

Well, as Dr. Freud said,

"We are never so defenseless
against suffering, as when we love."

Sophie wants me
to find this poem

that Jorie was writing.

I didn't even know
that Jorie wrote poetry.

I thought we knew
everything about each other.

But, James,
can anyone really ever know

everything about themselves?

I understand that Dr. Bird
isn't real.

But my father
won't pay for a psychiatrist

and pigeons strike me
as good listeners.

In order to find
Jorie's graphic poem

and hence secure the rights to a
lifetime supply of Sophie's love liquids,

I decide to conduct
a covert operation.

- The Brute says that Jorie's room is...
- Verboten.

He likes to use words
from Nazi movies

in order to make himself
seem even more sinister

than he already is.

But why exactly
is it "verboten"?

Let go of me!

- I said let go of me.
- Just, please...

- You have to calm down.
- Stop it!

- Stop touching me!
- I beg you!

- Stop it! Stop it!
- Please stop it!

- Get off of me!
- I'll let go

- when you calm down.
- Let go. Let go of me.

- Stop it!
- Just keep still.

- Stop touching me, you brute.
- You have to calm down.

James, do something.

Let go. Stop.

No, don't.

Go to your room.

Go to your room!

These goggles
are hurting my head.

♪ Why does my heart... ♪

Kwame, do you think
we're ever truly capable

of knowing anyone else?

What did you say,
you sodomite?

Well, if we can never
really know ourselves,

then we can't possibly
know anyone else either.

And if we can never
know anyone else,

then we're just these lonely
little beings reaching out

for these connections with these
other lonely little beings,

but there's no point since
if we can never really

know ourselves then by
the transitive property,

we can never know
anyone else either.

James,

you need to find a lady

and kiss her
where she pees.

That's probably true.

Sophie Seltzer and I made
speaks the other day.

Hey.

Did you use your tongue?

You have to use your tongue
in order to speak.

I've been doing sex
with a lady.

- A lady?
- She's 22.

And shacked up.

So you're having an affair?

Nah, doofus,
she's havin' the affair.

I'm just gettin'
some stank on the hang dizzy.

Don't worry, you'll meet her at The
Baron's croquet club champagne social.

Oh, really?

I didn't know that
I was invited

to The Baron's croquet
club champagne social.

The Baron's real name
is Phillip Griffith.

He claims to be a descendant
of Eastern European royalty

deposed by Kaiser Wilhelm I
during World War I.

He's obsessed with projecting
an aristocratic air

and is completely delusional

about his station in life.

I'm not good in crowds.

The thought of The Baron's
party makes me sick.

Well, not sick exactly,
but like my throat is closing in

and I'm gonna choke to death
for no reason.

Suddenly, my mind becomes
overwhelmed by dark thoughts:

Ebola, the heating
of the Earth's core,

the disappearance
of commercial aircraft,

the collapse
of the gold standard.

But none of this scares me
as much as...

Social gatherings.

Dr. Bird, is it normal
to dread them?

Of course, it is.

People are filthy animals.

Oh, they are, aren't they?

Yes. My advice
is to just be...

I'm sorry, did...
Did you say, "Just be",

and then coo?

Or just be...

"Cool", James.

I said, "Just be..."

Cool.

Right.

I can't go to The Baron's
croquet club champagne social.

Man, that's not cool.

Croquet is not cool.

- Oh.
- It's an elitist sport.

Also, I'm allergic
to champagne.

- Hmm.
- The whole thing

- is a joke anyway.
- Of course, it's a joke.

That's why everybody goes.

And you should probably
just use one excuse, hmm?

The Brute won't let me go.

- That's cockamamie.
- Is it?

It's malarkey.

Shh.

She looks upset.
I wonder if it's my fault.

But how could it be my fault?
I didn't do anything.

But what if I did do something.
I just don't know

what she think...

I attempt to time
my exit so that we bump

into each other by mistake...

...on purpose.

What would Walt Whitman
do in this situation?

Probably jerk off in a field
and write a poem about it.

- James.
- Oh, hi. Sophie.

Hey. What are you
thinking about?

Um...

Organic farming.

That's very progressive of you.

Um, do you wanna go for a walk?

So, any luck on
the search for Jorie's poem?

Uh, Jorie's poem? Yes.

Wait. Really?

Uh, no.

Oh, well then,
why did you just say "yes"?

Um...

I don't know.

Hmm. Weird.

By the way, can I ask
what really happened to Jorie?

Annie Munroe said
that she was strip dancing

at a club on Tuesday nights.

Is that true?
I don't think it's true

but, if so,
that would be badass.

Yeah, that's pretty...

...bad.

Ugh, sorry.

It's my boyfriend.

Boy...

What's that?

This?

This is my mood ring.

Mood ring?

So you use it to monitor
your emotions?

Correct.

You should never play poker.

Hey, what are you doing
this weekend?

This weekend?
Um, this weekend

I'm supposed to go
to this champagne...

Wait, The Baron's croquet
club champagne social?

- Yes.
- Scheisse, I wanna go.

But I can't because
I've got this stupid

relationship drama going on.

- Relationship drama?
- He can't hang out

with my friends
because he gets jealous.

Jealous?

Jealous like on an episode

of "Long Island Railroad"?

Victoria, what the (BLEEP)

Yo, I (BLEEP) love you,
all right?

Then why don't you (BLEEP)
act like it, Jimmy,

instead buying drinks
for every whore in the club

with money you don't have?

Exactly. But somehow
even dumber.

Well...

Then you have
to come to the party.

I mean that's what the characters
on the show would do, right?

- Totally.
- Glory.

Somebody would get roofied,

somebody would vomit,

somebody would come out
of the closet,

somebody would get
emotionally vulnerable.

Spunktrumpet!

Spunktrumpet?

It's the poetry
of the streets, James.

The poetry of the streets.

Is Jorie some kind of coke-dealing
Tuesday night pole dancer?

What? Where'd you hear that?

Please don't bring up your
sister's name at the table.

- But...
- I said, don't.

Before Jorie
and I were born,

my mother had a promising career as
an avant-garde artist in New York.

Hmm.

That is until
she met The Brute

who undermined her self-esteem
by paying a backhanded

compliment in the hope that she'd
hang around to seek his approval.

Do you like it?

I think that is very,
very good

for people who like that
kind of thing.

The Brute soon used
his Rasputin-like charm

to convince my mother to
abandon her bohemian dreams

and instead open
a sushi restaurant

in a small
suburban strip-mall.

But no one ever really trusts
a Caucasian sushi chef.

Is Jorie some kind of
coke-dealing Tuesday

- night pole dancer?
- Didn't I tell you

- not to mention her name?
- "At the table."

- This is the couch.
- Jorie is not currently

part of the family unit.
All right?

Unit? Jesus, Carl.
You're not in the Navy anymore.

She's not part of our family because
you kicked her out of our family.

He thinks because he still wears a
costume that he never left the service.

You're not in the Navy anymore,
Carl, you're a fishmonger now.

- Hmm.
- Feel better now?

(BLEEP) be someone in my house.

Today is not the day to (BLEEP)
with me when I...

Give me the remote.

Tell him he doesn't have
to give orders anymore.

Don't talk to me through him.

James, give me the remote.
I don't wanna watch this program.

She was trying to figure out
who she wanted to become.

But he knows better
than anyone else

what they should do
with their future.

- She's trouble.
- She is not trouble.

I'm trying protect
our family. All right?

Family... What family?
We don't have a family.

- Knock it out.
- Get down.

James, give me
the goddamn remote!

Tell him that
if he wants to behave

- like a kamikaze pilot...
- Jesus.

...we're all gonna die.

Stop talking through James.
It's not fair to him.

Sometimes I just wanna
squeeze your face off.

That's what I thought.

But how?

Look what you did.

- He's talking to the TV now.
- No, he's just...

James, you're not talking
to the TV, are you?

I should go to bed.

Oh, come on.

Oh, come on.

What?

Jorie smokes cigars?

At first, it's like opening a
secret portal into our childhood.

But then I start
to find other things.

Things which
I don't recognize.

What is this
supposed to do?

Oh. I see.

Did Jorie join some kind
of criminal syndicate?

Wait a second.

Is that the...

That's The Baron.

James, I believe
you've reached the first crucible

of your young life.

And your crucible is

that you must confront your
fear of social situations.

- Must I?
- Yes. You must.

Go to The Baron's croquet
club champagne social,

present him
with this evidence,

and have him help you
find your sister.

Dr. Bird is right.

The Baron's croquet club
champagne social is my crucible.

It's time for me to conquer
my fear of social situations.

This ruckus
is making my tuchus twinge.

What's up,
Your Heinous?

Hello.

And, uh, who pray tell
is this?

This, pray tell,
is James.

Welcome to my croquet club
champagne social, James.

Thank you
for having me.

Well, I don't
have you quite yet.

Hmm. Come on.

- Is he...
- He's eccentric.

♪ I know you don't love me... ♪

Are they looking at me?

They're looking at me.
Why are they looking at me?

I'm experiencing excessive
and unreasonable fear.

I'm feeling self-conscious.

Like I'm being watched, like I'm being
judged, like I'm being criticized.

I'm afraid I'll make mistakes. I'll look bad.

I'll be embarrassed
or be humiliated in front of...

Hey, ass monkey.

What's up
your prison purse?

Why? What happened?

Did I do something wrong?

My son, I believe you must
drink some time travel tipple.

♪ Sometimes I feel ♪

♪ Like a motherless child ♪

♪ Sometimes... ♪

Kwame is amazing
to watch operate.

He manages to hold
several conversations

while simultaneously
Instagramming,

Snapchatting, Tweeting,
Facebooking

and acknowledging the presence
of every person who walks by.

♪ Sometimes I feel ♪

♪ Like a motherless child ♪

Jimbo!

Everybody, this is James.

Hi, I'm James.

His mother pays me
to be his friend.

That's not true.

The truth is I'm his
social experiment.

The mixture
of beer and fear

makes time
skip around.

Eventually,
someone does throw up...

...someone gets roofied...

...and someone comes out
of the closet.

Woo.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Woo.

James?

Hi.

- Sophie.
- Hey.

You're never gonna
believe me

but everything you said
would happen,

from the Long Island
Railroad, it happened.

Well, all except for, um...

Somebody would get
emotionally vulnerable.

Wait.

What are you
doing here?

I thought
you were off fighting

with your
spunktrumpet.

- James. Hi.
- Hi.

Uh, this is
my boyfriend, Martin.

Hey. How they hanging'?

Stupid
hipster pants.

- Excuse me?
- Excuse me?

What did you say
about my pants?

What I said?

Did he hear that?
How did he hear that?

That was supposed
to be internal monologue.

Um, nothing.

You asked me how mine
were hanging in my pants

so I asked you
how yours

were hanging
in your pants.

Mine are hanging
comfortably.

- Thank you.
- James is helping me

find a poem
for the Conundrum.

Oh, yeah?
Too bad poetry is dead.

Martin thinks gangsta
rap is the new poetry.

All that loud
talking, lying,

save that shit for your man.

Sounds like
blah-blah.

I'm like uh-huh, okay,

whassup, shut up!

That's an interesting
perspective.

Hey, what's good?

I want you all to meet
my girl...

Uh...

My friend.

This is...
This is Sally.

What's up?

- Hey.
- Hey.

Hey, come on.
Everybody, let's ghost ride the whip, huh?

Kwame, that makes no sense.

♪ Just stay with me
Stay with me ♪

♪ Move your body ♪

♪ Don't play with me
Play with me ♪

♪ Play ♪

♪ Just stay with me
Stay with me ♪

♪ Move your body ♪

♪ Don't play with me
Play with me ♪

♪ Play, play, play, play ♪

♪ Pull me closer
And touch me sweet ♪

♪ Never close your eyes ♪

Woo!

Woo, woo, woo! Whoa!

♪ ...like the first time ♪

♪ Don't walk away ♪

All right.

Well, it's fun, guys.

We're going upstairs.

Upstairs?

What happens upstairs?

Come on.
Let's go upstairs.

♪ Just stay with me
Stay with me ♪

♪ Move your body ♪

♪ Don't play with me ♪

Champagne cocktail?

Jimmy,
where the (BLEEP) are you?

I know
you know my sister.

- What?
- What did you do?

Maybe.

But there may be a lot
about your sister

which you don't know.

Like, that you're secret
gangbangers?

We're not
secret gangbangers.

Then why
are you dressed

like you're in
a secret gangbang?

Because
Jorie and I, we were...

We were
into cosplay.

Why would people
wanna do that?

Haven't you ever
felt like

you want to be
someone else?

Maybe sometimes.

Why didn't Jorie ever tell me

about this cosplay?

Jorie is lost, James.

I know.

I'm trying to find her.

Please, tell me
where she is.

I truly don't have
the faintest.

Stop!
Stop! Stop!

What the (BLEEP) Martin?

(BLEEP) Oh, my God.

How many (BLEEP) guys are
you sleeping in 24 hours...

I said I just
wanted to talk!

Here we go
with this (BLEEP) again.

(BLEEP) I'm out.

- Yo, that's right. Walk away.
- I'm walking. I'm leaving. Yes.

Walk the (BLEEP) away, you stupid...

What the (BLEEP)
are you looking at, you (BLEEP)

Get out.

Opportunity
is not a lengthy visitor.

Go to her.

♪ One of these mornings ♪

♪ Won't be very long ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ And I'll be gone ♪

Are you okay?

I guess I'm the one who got
emotionally vulnerable.

♪ One of these mornings ♪

♪ Won't be very long ♪

♪ You will look for me... ♪

Well, at least you weren't
the one who got roofied.

♪ One of these mornings ♪

♪ Won't be very long ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ And I'll be gone ♪

You're good, right?

What, what do you mean? You mean
like in the sense of the word good?

Like platonic good or...

James, are you or are
you not a good guy?

I think I am.

Yes.

Wait. Yes.

Well...

if you are, shouldn't you be
trying to make me feel better?

I note the time
and position of the moon.

I look into her eyes.

As our lips touch,
all of my worries disappear

and for the first time
since Jorie went missing,

I feel at one
with the entire universe.

I want to (BLEEP) the world!

I wouldn't tell
Sophie that.

Walt Whitman would.

You're not
Walt Whitman.

They set
up a series of IEDs.

A lot of my friends died.

I was a soldier.
We were all soldiers.

We got blown up.

With no GPS coordinates
for the...

Hey. Hey, James,
you wanna watch a little TV?

There's a documentary
on about the Battle of Basra.

Where my squadron got their...

Are you drunk?

I'm intoxicated by life.

No. You're drunk on beer.

Beer is a part of life.

You're 16
for God's sake.

What, you're gonna hit me?

Jesus, no!

I'm not...
You know, I'm trying.

Don't end up
like your sister.

I, and this mystery,

here we stand.

Oh, I got to lie down.

Huh?

The weekend
is spent compiling

an exhaustive list
of local establishments

with the word "clover"
in their names.

So how's your mood?

My mood is indigo.

Indigo?

Nice. What does
that mean?

It means
that I'm happy,

at peace, blissful.

You are such a sap!

Come on.
Let me see it.

Hmm.

- Hey, what's this?
- What's what?

That's... No.
That's nothing.

Why are you being
so suspicious?

I'm not
being suspicious. Am I?

Yes, you are.

I don't wanna
act suspicious.

Dr. Bird says that in order to form a
secure attachment with a love object,

it's important to be emotionally
honest and not withholding.

I decide to confess to Sophie
about my secret search.

Sweet monkey balls!

That sounds like
Blue Velvet or something.

You know Blue Velvet?

Uh, it's only my favorite film
of the 1980s.

It's my favorite film
of the 1980s.

And if we do find Jorie,

then maybe she'll give me
her graphic poem.

Hold on. Did you say we find...
We find Jorie?

Yes, sir. You need a partner
for this search.

Spit in your hand.

Spit in my hand? Why?

To seal the deal.

No. That's disgusting.

I'm sorry.
Did you or did you not French kiss

my esophagus yesterday?

All right.

After school,
Sophie and I

search for the "clover"
that will lead us to Jorie.

- Hi.
- Hi.

- Hi.
- Hi.

What's this?

To document our search.

It's a real film camera.
It's old school but...

Good school.

Because
it's not disposable.

'Cause you have
to actually focus on

what you're taking
a picture of.

You like it?

It's perfect.

At first, our search
for Jorie feels like this.

Excuse me.
Have you seen this girl?

No. No.
I haven't seen her.

But then it begins
to feel more like...

What are you
looking at?

Oh, nothing.

Stop looking at me.

Stop!

- No.
- Stop!

Excuse me.
Have seen this girl?

Her name is Jorie.

And, eventually,
it begins to feel like this.

♪ Da-da-da-dun ♪

♪ Why does my heart ♪

♪ Why does my heart ♪

♪ Feel so bad? ♪

♪ Oh, it feels so bad ♪

♪ Why does my soul ♪

♪ Why does my soul ♪

♪ Feel so bad? ♪

♪ It feels so bad ♪

♪ Please open doors ♪

♪ Open doors ♪

- ♪ Please open doors ♪
- ♪ Open doors Please open ♪

♪ Why does my heart ♪

♪ Feel so bad? ♪

Hello?

I'm home.

Hello?

What's wrong?

Nothing.

Did something happen?

No. Nothing happened. I'm fine.

She's not fine.

She just wants to play this
game where she pretends

not to burden me
with her problems,

but really she wants me
to slowly coax it out of her

so that she doesn't have
to feel guilty

for telling me herself.

Your father called me
a parasite.

I was invited
to teach painting in Provence.

Provence?

South of France.

My old professor, Jacques,
he was made head

of the art department
at the Universite Fictif.

Jacques attended
the Glaucus School of Art

with my mother
in the early 1990s.

They were expelled for erecting
a statue of his torso

in the lobby
during parents' week.

To my mother, Jacques represents
the lost dreams of her youth,

though I suspect he's really
just a dirty Frenchman.

When The Brute saw the invitation,
he just started in on me.

He called
your sister and I parasites.

So are you gonna go?

Go where?

To Provence?

What do you think?

What do I think?

I guess I'm supposed to pretend
everything's okay?

Just forget it.

Well, um...

I think you should do
what makes you happy.

Happy?

You're the only thing
that makes me happy.

And how did
that make you feel?

It made me feel...

...angry.

It's okay to be angry.

I feel guilty saying angry.

Why?

Because I love her
and I want her to be happy.

But you can't actually
make her happy.

You know that, James.

You are aware of that,
aren't you?

I need to find Jorie.

I have a feeling
this is gonna be the one.

- Oh, yeah?
- Mmm-hmm.

Why?

Female intuition?

Well, yes, that.

And also it's the last place
on the list.

Honey gets its start
as flower nectar,

which is collected
by the bees.

Naturally broken
into simple sugars

and stored in honeycombs.

That's interesting, but...

We harvest honey by collecting
the honeycomb frames,

scraping off the wax cap
to seal honey in each cell.

Interesting, but...

After honey is extracted,

it is strained
for remaining pieces of wax

and other particles.

- Informative, but...
- And that, my friends,

is how honey ends up
on your grocery store shelf.

Do you or do you not know Jorie?

Sorry.

Who's Jorie?

My missing sister.

Ah, yes.

You guys were looking
for someone?

Nope.

Never seen her.

Wait!

I know that girl.

You do?

But her name isn't Jorie.

It's Bianca.

Bianca?

I used to see her all the time
at The House.

The House?

The House of Clover.

What's that?

You're not gonna find it
on any list.

Is it a secret house?

So then this is...

This is a front.

The honey pays the bills.

The honey pays the bills.

I just had to let you know.

I guess I wish someone cared
enough to come looking for me.

But, please,
do not tell anyone I told you.

And if you go, be careful.

It's a powerful place

led by a very dangerous man,

Xavier.

You know what the best part is?

After we find Jorie,
and I get my graphic poem,

we don't have
to hang out anymore.

Wait. What?

Are you serious?

But wait... But are you...

- Sophie...
- Look. Look.

It's The House of Clover.

Sophie, are you serious?

This is like
a slasher flick.

But are you...

I have mine already.

I'll be dead by sunrise.

But are you...
Are you serious?

Okay.

Hey, watch out for that.

Okay. Stay low.

Did your sister join the Klan?

Maybe it's
a cosplay convention.

Energy.

Energy.

What is energy?

Is it simply a fossil fuel

used to power
our motorized gizmos

and electronic doohickeys?

No.

No.

Is it crazy old
Thomas Edison's invention,

the illuminating light bulb?

No.

No!

Is it the binding of a nucleon
to form an atom?

No!

No!

Well, yes, it is that.

It is all those things.

But that is not all it is.

Why?

Because energy
is also attunement.

Energy is also Prajna.

Energy is Eros,

the god of love.

- Do you see her?
- No.

Energy is a dynamic movement

where we unite our lingam
with our yoni

to create the universal
tantric tango.

Is this some sort
of dance class?

No, James. This is a cult.

Time for ecstatic
energy exchange!

I am filled with fire.

To your rebirth positions.

Rebirth?

Oh, what the... Come on.

And breathe in...

...and out.

In and out.

And in...

...and out.

I don't think she's here.

And in... ...and out.

So what do we do?

Yes.

And in...

...and out.

In and out.

Hold it.

And in...

...and out.

And in and out.

And in and out.

In.

Out.

In, out. In, out.

In, out. In, out.

I think I'm gonna pass out.

In, out. In, out.

In, out. In, out.

In, out!

This...

Three alkaline teas
with extra honey.

Find your breath.

Center your sacrum.

I think I'm okay.

Um, this is the girl
we're looking for.

No. I'm sorry.
We have not seen her.

We?

Me, myself, I.

You mean like...

- Yes. I mean like...
- ...the royal we?

Correct.

Well...

I think...

I think you're all lying.

Mmm-hmm.

And who are you who's making
this accusation of me?

Listen, Xavier...

Uh-uh, long A.

Ah.

Ah.

Ah?

Ah.

Ah.

- Xa...
- No, no, no.

Pronounce the "X" please.

X-ah-vier.

X-ah-vier. X-ah-vier.

- X-ah-vier.
- Give me your hand.

Let us hold hands while
he learn how to pronounce.

Xavier. X-ah...

X-ah-vier.

X-ah-vier.

Hmm.

You've seen her.

I can see it in your eyes.

I just don't know.
I can't be certain.

But you have very

compassionate hands.

Wait a sec.

Were you, like,
her boyfriend or something?

No.

Really.

Not really.

Although, we did enjoy
each other's

holy places upon occasion.

Ugh.

Unfortunately,
Bianca was incapable

of transcending the shackles
of her childhood

and chose not to follow
our method.

Oh, thank you, Dennis.

Now, my young friend,

every spiritual journey
must begin with a quest,

am I right?

A quest?

And this quest of yours,
for Bianca,

this is a quest
for knowledge, yes?

Yes... Well, no.

I don't understand
what you're saying.

As it's been told and retold
in the ancient story of Adam

and his apple and Eve
and her snake,

knowledge often comes
with a price, does it not?

Right.

And in this particular case,
that price is $500.

What?

Cash or crypto. Either is fine.

Where the hell is my sister,

you weird fuck!

She's underage.
You know that, right?

Pardon?

She's 17, you sex pirate.

Sex pirate!

Uh-uh.

Is she?

No. Of course, she's not.
But is she?

- Where is my sister?
- Yeah.

I... I don't know.
She's not here.

Her brother came
and took her away.

What? I'm her brother.

Her other brother.

The ginger-haired fella.

A redhead?

We don't have
a red-headed brother.

I don't know.
She was here but now she's not.

Dennis, please come
and escort these children

out of the sanctuary.

No pictures. Oh, Dennis!

- He's trying to steal our souls.
- Hey!

Dennis, they're trying
to steal our souls!

You know what?
We're going to the police.

Uh, no, no, no, no. No police.

Thank you.

And I just want
to clarify for earlier,

for legal purposes,
when I said holy places,

I meant that as a metaphor.

Exactly!

No.

Reverse that.
I meant it literally.

As in an actual holy place.

An edifice.

Not an orifice.

I find you vulgar.

James, please run.

Run? Why?

Because of this.

Hey, X-ah-vier!

Come on.

Ah!

My eyes!

My eyes!

- Are they chasing us?
- No.

- But pretend they are.
- Why?

Because it's more fun
that way!

I don't understand.

Do I have a secret brother
from another mother?

James,

that was very exciting.

Was it?

Yeah. You were...

...so mannish.

Was I?

Yeah.

You want a handjob?

Uh, what?

Right here, right now?

Mmm-hmm.

I think I'm finally beginning
to understand how love works.

Tonight, dinner with my parents
is a jovial affair.

Oh.

We discuss
the latest showings

in the art galleries
of New York.

Now, did you two make it to
the Warhol exhibit at the MOMA?

No. We went to see Modigliani
at The Met, darling.

Oh, of course. Modigliani at The Met.

Our main course
is a lamb chop sous vide

with a yuzu thyme reduction.

Oh, divine.

Simply divine.

And for dessert...

Tiramisu, pour toit.

A culinary coup, mon cheri.

Mmm.

Mmm.

Mmm.

But in reality...

Wow. Okay.

You really went
to town tonight.

Do I have
a red-headed stepbrother?

Excuse me?

Like, literally,
a stepbrother with red hair?

Elly, anything I should know?

Don't be disgusting.
And no.

A fire-crotched imposter
has kidnapped my sister.

But who could he be,
and why would he abduct her?

So who is she?

Who's who?

You got yourself a job.

Obviously, there's a girl who
wants you to buy her things.

So who is she?

That's so misogynistic.

The air's on.

Her name is Sophie.

Okay. Sophie. Mmm-hmm.

You know...

You all like to make fun of me.

Yeah. You think it's funny
that I'm a...

A fishmonger?

But, you know,
when I met your mother,

I was on an officer's course.

I was all set to be
a carrier group captain.

And then almost immediately
her father died, your Opa,

and she felt like
she couldn't make a living

as an artist anymore. And, well,
she was dancing at night for money.

Dancing for money?
What, like a...

At The Tunnel.
It was a nightclub in Chelsea.

She started to hate New York.
She wanted to leave.

She wanted me
to leave the Navy,

go back home,

and start a little family,

and start a little restaurant.

Wait. She was the one
who wanted to open Tai-tai Yo?

Sushi was her favorite food.

Weird.

Yeah.

Do we have any family members
with mental problems?

Why would you ask that?

Like an uncle
or a great aunt or something?

Yeah, but why are you
asking me that?

Because I have mental problems,

and I know that mom
is always depressed,

and I heard
that it can be genetic.

Stop that. You don't have
mental problems.

Really, I don't?

Then how come my mind just goes
out of control sometimes?

Jesus.

You never believe anything
I say.

Look, you need to bury
those thoughts.

Convince yourself
they don't exist.

'Cause if
people sense it in you,

they see there's a weakness
and they exploit it.

It's mind over matter.

But my mind is the matter.

I'll... I'll get you
a Tony Robbins DVD.

I need to see a professional.

Look, you're not sick!

Do you understand?

Stop acting like your mother,
all right?

Try and be happy.

Look. Look.

Good luck with Sophie,
all right?

And if you get nervous,

just swallow hard...

...and swallow it all down,
and then it just...

...disappears.

So you haven't shagged
Sophie yet?

What are you waiting, hmm?

I don't know. I guess
I'm just a little concerned

about premature ejaculation.

Really? Really?

No, well, yeah, I am.

And she hasn't said she wants
to do sex yet, so...

Hey! Hey, Dad!

Nice shot, Sam!

Thanks. I'm gonna go
kill mom next.

It's like a Greek tragedy
out here.

Sir, you have been
fatally wounded.

Please return to the locker
and wait for the rest

- of your party to be killed.
- Yeah. All right.

Maybe this is what
a normal family does.

Maybe during the week,
they hide their hatred

for one another
under false smiles

and pleasant conversation.

And then on the weekend,
they go out to the woods

and pretend to shoot
each other to death.

Watch out!

Hey, James, life is short.

Shag Sophie.

The only formal
sex education I ever had

was on my 14th birthday.

♪ Happy birthday to you ♪

- Are you participating?
- That... That's not the point, Steven.

♪ Happy birthday... ♪

That's not the point.

♪ ...dear, James ♪

Who said we can't afford
any salmon?

He said I can't afford
any salmon?

- All right. Then who said it?
- Make a wish, little one.

No.

Yeah. I did. Sure. I said
we can't afford any salmon?

Oh, really? So he said that?

He said that?

Look, just...
Just have him extend the credit line.

Really? He said that?

Who's Dee Snider?

He was in a heavy metal band

when I was younger
called Twisted Sister.

And I thought
it would be a fun way

for you to learn about sex.

No. All right.

Look, would you ask him how
am I supposed to pay him back

if he won't sell me
any goddamn fish!

Dr. Bird, I'm beginning
to feel weird again.

Try to define exactly what
you're feeling weird about.

I'm afraid that Sophie won't
wanna hang out with me

after our search for Jorie
is over.

I believe that she was joking.

Do you?

You don't think someone can
just like you for who you are?

You think they need
an excuse to be with you?

Yes.

I mean, no.

I don't know.

I'm just scared of losing her.

We haven't even done sex yet.

Well, then perhaps it's time
to express your carnal desires.

Wow. This is
a very scenic expanse.

So I would like
to ask you something...

- Hmm?
- ...if I may.

You may.

Well... Um...

We seem to enjoy
each other's company.

Correct.

You know, emotionally,
intellectually.

Yeah. Yeah.

And as far as I know,
neither one of us

has any sort of chlamydia,
or herpes,

or any other social disease.

What, are you waiting for me
to confirm that?

No. No. Of course not.

But, anyway, um...

So I was hoping,
taking these observations

into consideration,

maybe sometime soon we could...

do sex to each other?

I'm so sorry.
That was immature.

I was trying to use humor
to deflate the situation.

I was being
irresponsible and...

No. No. It's not that.

It's not you.

Really?

Oh. Okay. Then...

Martin's been telling people

I did horrible things with him.

Horrible things?

Really? Like what?

Like something called
the Kentucky Tractor Pull.

Oh.

And the Canadian Porch Swing.

Uh-huh.

And the Cleveland Accordion.

I... It's... It's not true.

I'm sure it's not.

He's a spunktrumpet.

Hey. What happened
to your ring?

Oh, no.

Mood swings?

Paintball paint.

Now, how are you gonna know
how you feel?

I miss my sister.

Hey. You dropped something.

What is this?

I found that in Jorie's room.

Wait. Look.

Her brother came
and took her away.

Ginger-haired fellow.

Oh, my God.

- Oh, my God.
- Let's go.

He lives here?

Well, this is the address
I stole from student records.

- Hello, Baron.
- How...

How did you find out
where I live?

We need your help.

Who is this red-head?

I don't recall.

He kidnapped Jorie.

Kidnapped?

Well, I guess, abducted.

How do you know this
information?

We joined a sex cult.

I... We would really
appreciate it

if you would told us who he is.

I suppose I could make
a few calls.

Her life could be in danger.

And in return?

In return?

Quid pro quo, no?

In return?

In return, we won't tell
everyone in school about this!

So, you slip'er
the crip'ler yet or what?

No. We're still in a delicate
stage of negotiations.

Oh I forgot to tell you,
Sally's fiance found

my Evel Knievel jacket. Uh-huh.

- He what?
- Huh, yeah.

I don't even know why
you wear that thing.

You don't even
own a motorcycle.

You need to break up
with that girl.

Why for, brojangles?

Because she's a horrible human.

Nah, she's just a normal human.

What's that supposed to mean?

Means everybody two-times.

I would never cheat on Sophie.

Don't be a dingus.

Everybody cheats
and, uh, everybody leaves.

Now, I'm no Dr. Bird,
but I believe that Kwame's

pessimistic view
of relationships

is directly attributable
to his parents' divorce

at a formative age.
I pity what has probably

already become a life-long
inability to trust.

Trust me, mandingo,
clear the custard

before you find some chap's
jacket in your flat.

But what if
Kwame's right?

Despite my best efforts
to block it, his negative meme

has already implanted itself
in my brain.

Everybody cheats,
everybody leaves.

Everybody cheats,
everybody leaves.

- Stop saying that.
- Everybody leaves.

- Everybody leaves.
- Stop saying that.

Stop saying that.

Stop saying that.

Stop!

Uh, I just shouldn't...

Everyone cheats,
everyone leaves.

Stop saying that.

Everyone cheats,
Every one leaves.

Stop saying that.
Stop saying that!

Don't go crazy, don't go crazy.

Don't go crazy.

Don't go crazy.

Stop saying that.
Stop saying that!

Stop saying that.

James?

Don't go crazy.

- Don't go crazy.
- Are you okay?

Please, not now.

Don't go crazy.

♪ One of these mornings ♪

♪ Won't be very long ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ And I'll be gone ♪

♪ I'll be gone ♪

Every morning now,
I wake up like this...

"I cannot be awake,
for nothing looks to me

"as it did before..."

At school it feels like

I'm playing a video game
of my life.

Like I can control
a virtual version of myself,

but that I'm not
actually there.

It feels like the entire world
is just a figment

of my imagination
and I'm completely alone

and nothing outside
of me is real.

Deep down I know it's not true,

but it feels more real
than reality.

Dr. Bird, I think I'm
losing touch with reality.

Whitman says, "I accept reality
and dare not question it."

Shut up about Walt Whitman!

James!

I... I can't feel
anything anymore.

If this feeling doesn't
stop soon,

then I'm gonna have to...

I'm... I'm gonna have to...

You're going to have to what?

I just can't live like this.

If this doesn't stop and I'll...

- James?
- I'll...

- You'll what?
- It's my fault that Jorie left!

I couldn't stand up for her
against The Brute.

I let him kick her out.

You had an attack. You froze.

And now Sophie's gone.

And now my mother might go.

And everyone's just gonna go
because... because I...

As long as I'm...

If I...

James?

James?

Where are you going?

♪ One of these mornings ♪

♪ Won't be very long ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ And I'll be gone ♪

♪ You will look for me
And you will look ♪

- ♪ You will look for me ♪
- I can't take it anymore.

I can't take it anymore.

♪ And I'll be gone ♪

♪ And I'll be gone ♪

Hello?

Baron?

Hey.

Hi. Thanks for coming.

Why are you wet?

Are you cheating on me
with your hipster ex-boyfriend?

Are you trying
to kill yourself?

I saw you with him
in a utility closet.

He was apologizing for what
he told people about me.

- Really?
- Yes.

Sophie explains.

Everything is in your head.

- And furthermore...
- You totally overreacted.

- But...
- It's kind of flattering

- that you were that jealous.
- However...

I'm freaked out by the way
that you handled this.

The Baron knows where Jorie is.

Whoa. Wait? Really?

She's in the city.

Hmm.

Will you still come with me
to find her?

She probably will give you
her poem.

Don't be a dick.

That's not why I'd go.

James.

Yeah?

I feel small.

James,
this place is scaring me.

Well, come on.
Just stay close.

She's in there?

You know, we don't have
to go in. We can go home.

We can tell your mom.
Your mom can come back and get her.

I don't even think we could
get in even if we wanted to.

You don't have a fake ID,
do you?

- Come on.
- What are you talking about?

Pretend like
we're being chased.

Hey!

I don't like this!

Come on.

I'm scared!

James, I'm freaked out.

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

Jorie?

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

James!

♪ One of these mornings ♪

♪ Won't be very long ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ And I'll be gone ♪

♪ One of these mornings ♪

♪ Won't be very long ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

Bianca?

What are you doing? Dance!

♪ Well, I'm just mad... ♪

No! Don't!

You know this kid?
Who the hell is he?

He's my brother.

What are you doing here?

- I came to save you.
- Save me?

This is where
The Baron said that

- you're kidnap...
- He's not my kidnapper, James!

He's my boyfriend.

When we went to the Clover cult,

- they told me he was...
- You went there?

Oh, Jesus.

We had to tell Xavier that
Keith was family

so he would let me leave.

What?

The red-head guy didn't
kidnap you?

No! He didn't kidnap me!

But when The Brute

- kicked you out...
- Dad didn't kick me out.

What... What do you mean?

It was my decision to leave.

He didn't kick me out. I left.

Jorie...

I've been having
the blitzkriegs again.

They've been getting worse.

I'm really sorry to hear that.

Why didn't you tell me
where you were?

Why didn't you answer
my phone calls?

I threw away my phone.

James, it's not like I didn't
want to be there for you.

But I couldn't.

I know what this must look like to
you, but I was all screwed up

and dad, he actually...
He tried to help,

but he didn't know how.

Why didn't you just talk to me?

I needed someone else.

Someone outside of the family.

I needed a stranger.

Can you understand that?

No.

Look, I can't help you
now, okay?

I need you to let me go
for a little while.

This is where I need to be now.

This is my home.

I need some time to figure
things out for myself

before I can be there
for you again.

- But The Brute's gonna...
- Stop calling him that!

Mom should have never called
him that, to us.

Why?

You know exactly why.

♪ Happy birthday to you ♪

Just... Just have him
extend the credit line.

How am I supposed
to pay you back

if he won't sell
me the goddamned fish!

You need to come home now.

No, James. This is my home.

I'm happy. I'm happy here!

No! You're not!

Bianca, what the hell?

- You need to come home now!
- I'm not coming home, James.

- Yes, you are!
- Let go of me!

- Let go of my arm.
- No!

- You need to come home!
- Don't be like dad!

I hate you!

You are The Brute!

James?

James, where did you go?

Please just call me back.

James, I'm really freaking out.

Please answer.

Did you just leave like that?

I... I'm so confused, James.

Just please call me back.

Where the hell
have you been?

Jesus, James!

Oh, my God.
We thought you were dead!

Well?

Why would you do that to me?

We were so worried about you.
Your father called the police!

I was calling
the hospitals, the morgues.

I found Jorie.

What?

Where?

- Carl, wait a second. No, wait.
- Come on. In the car. Let's go.

- No.
- What do you mean no?

This isn't a game.

- You're taking me to her now.
- I said no!

You don't ever listen.

Jorie's lost on purpose.

What is...

Unless you wanna lose me,
too, then...

I need to see a professional.

You want to talk to a stranger?

Why?

So you can tell him what
a "brute" I am?

No.

Because I'm sick.

James, what are you... Please.

You got to stop saying that.

You're not sick.

Okay.

If I'm so well...

How come I talk
to an imaginary bird?

Huh? What is...

What do you mean,
an imaginary what?

I know he's not real.

But he can't help me anymore.

I need real help.

I think you know I do.

I think you know that
you do, too.

Sophie, I...

Sometimes Whitman passed
off lists of things as poetry.

Many of the things he wrote
about don't exist anymore.

So I look at stuff
and consider whether

it will become extinct
in 100 years.

Maps.

Pencils.

Books.

Mr. Snopek.

Kwame.

Me?

Okay.

A little bit of bluish color.

Just get more on there.

So, a big tree may not have
many leaves down here,

but way up high, somewhere,
where the little squirrel lives.

All right.

James.

I've been worried about you.

Uh, I'm fine, thanks.

We haven't spoken in a while.

Really? I hadn't noticed.

I've been really busy
with SAT prep

and with chorus practice and...

I know about Dr. Hightower.

I'm sorry.

I really just need someone
who can think outside of me.

Well, I'm outside of you.
Aren't I?

No, you're just a projection
of my superego.

Why on Earth would you say that?

- Because you're a talking bird.
- So?

So, talking birds
don't exist.

James, don't you wish
you could wake up

one day and celebrate yourself?

Shut up.

But, don't you wish that?

Shut up! Shut up
and stop talking to me!

I told The Brute.

Stop calling him that.

You told him what?

I... I told him that I knew.

That you knew?

Why do you always act
so suspicious?

Didn't your sister tell you?

Tell me what, mom?

That I knew
where she was, James.

Wait. What?

You knew?

I'm the one that told
her to leave.

You were the one
who told her to leave?

I wanted her to know
that she wasn't trapped.

That she didn't have
to be like me.

Why didn't you just tell me?

Because she made me
promise not to.

Because she knew you'd try
and find her

and she wanted to protect you.

Why is everyone
always trying to protect me?

It's so cruel.

Don't be angry
at your sister.

I think what Jorie did
was very brave.

She's doing
what she needs to do

to find out
who she wants to be.

And maybe if I were as strong
as Jorie is when I was younger,

maybe she wouldn't have
to do anything

that she's doing now.

James.

I love you so much.

I think you have regrets

about decisions
you've made in your life

and you're just using Jorie
to try and fix them.

Who told you that?

You have no idea
what you're talking about.

I'm sorry the way
things turned out.

I'm sorry. I tried my best.

Was I a bad mother?

No.

I was, wasn't I?

I was a terrible mother.

No. You weren't. No.

You promise me
one thing, James.

Don't let fear dictate
what you do in your life.

Don't let fear dictate
what you do in your life.

Don't let fear dictate.

Don't let fear dictate.

Dictate. Dictate.

Dictate.

Are you a Middle-Eastern
dictator?

And henceforth
I will go celebrate

anything I see or am.

Uh, leave me a
message and I'll get back to you. Bye.

Hi. Sophie, it's James.

Look, I'm sorry for abandoning
you in the city.

Please call me back.

Commonly, in physics,
we use position vectors

to describe where something is,

in the space
we are considering,

or how its position is changing
at that moment in time.

Position vectors are in, uh,
summations of scalars

multiplied by unit vectors.

Hi, is Sophie
there, please?

Are you insane?

Yes.

Can we talk?

Will you stop
calling me if I do?

Seltzer! Whitman!

The forces of attraction
do not operate any more

successfully beneath a desk
than above one.

I miss you.

I've learned some life lessons

and I think I'm ready
to continue our relationship

with you from a more
enlightened perspective.

Life lessons?

Screw you, James.

I'm not some quirky character

who exists
just to give you an epiphany.

I'm just as confused
as you are.

I'm trying to figure
who I am, too.

But you know who you are.

I do not!

I have no idea who I am.

Most of the time
I'm just pretending

to be who I think everyone else
wants me to be.

Why?

Because it'll will make them
like me more.

That's not true.

It made you like me,
didn't it?

Why did you leave me
in New York?

I have health issues.

Health?

Wait, what do you mean?
Are you sick?

I'm sick in the head.

What... What are you
talking about?

I saw a psychiatrist.

And she told me that
I have an anxiety disorder.

And that's why
I act like this.

What does that mean?

I mean are you...

I mean do you need help?

I need you.

Please, can we get back
together now?

No, James.

No.

I'm sorry.

I need to be with someone
who's more...

Someone less...

To be honest,
I don't think I...

...wanna be with anyone
at all right now.

Okay.

I'm just glad that we got
to love each other

for as long as we did.

Me too.

I'm sorry that I couldn't get
Jorie's poem for you.

But I made you this.

Thank you.

By the way...

I never did sex
with anyone.

I just wanted
to let you know.

Whitman said, "Keep your
face always towards the sunshine

"and the shadows
will fall behind you."

Dr. Bird?

I need to bid
you adieu now, James.

Where...
Where are you going?

It's time for me
to fly south.

Retire to Boca, perhaps.

You're leaving me?

You don't need me anymore.

You said so yourself.

I... I'm sorry I yelled at you.

No, no, no, you were right.

You have a professional now.

No.

No, I still need you, I do.

Please don't go.
I'm not ready.

It's time to put away
childish things.

Time to become a man.

A man?

Dr. Bird, before you go,

can I ask you
one last question?

Of course.

Will love always be
this painful?

You need to be able
to celebrate yourself first.

Then, you'll find
someone else

who can celebrate you.

James, don't you wish
you could wake up one day

and just celebrate yourself?

I'm trying.

I really am.

I know, my boy.
I know you are.

What's wrong?

- Nightmare?
- Yes.

Here. This is my friend.

He eats bad dreams.

I want you to have him.

I'm figuring out now
how to deal with my problem.

How to cope.

To manage.

To endure.

Moment to moment.

Day to day.

But that doesn't mean
I've forgotten Walt Whitman.

Every morning, I wake up and
sing a song of myself. I say...

I am light. I am truth.

I am might. I am youth.

I leap from my bed
to greet the day.

I celebrate the girls
who stroll through school

in short skirts
with secret grins,

pretending to be who other
people want them to be.

I celebrate The Baron
for his delusions of grandeur

and for the whisker
that grows from his mole.

I celebrate Martin
for his ironic mustache

and stupid hipster pants.

I celebrate Kwame,
who will make new friends,

but never abandon me.

I celebrate my father
for his rage.

And my mother
for her sadness.

I celebrate Sophie
for showing me first love.

I celebrate Jorie,

who suffers
and searches for herself.

I celebrate all the people
who read the Conundrum

and talked about it
and shared it.

They sang of me, were surprised by
me, discovered me.

And while it'll all soon fade
and I'll go back

to just being another face
in the hallway,

I sang for a little while
and some of them heard me

and felt enough to say that
they felt something similar.

Hey, are you James?

James Whitman?

And I will
celebrate myself.

I will celebrate
James Whitman.

In my voice,
I will sing of myself,

I... Not now.

Please not now.

Don't go crazy.

Please not now.

Don't go crazy.
Don't go crazy.

Don't go crazy.
Don't go crazy.

Don't go crazy.
Don't go crazy.

♪ One of these mornings ♪

♪ Won't be very long ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ And I'll be gone ♪

♪ One of these mornings ♪

♪ Won't be very long ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ And I'll be gone ♪

♪ I'll be gone ♪

♪ I'll be gone ♪

♪ I'll be gone ♪

♪ I'll be gone ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ One of these mornings ♪

♪ Won't be very long ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ And I'll be gone ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me
I'll be gone ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ I'll be gone ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ I'll be gone ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me
I'll be gone ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me
I'll be gone ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me
I'll be gone ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me ♪

♪ You will look for me
I'll be gone ♪