Episode Details

Chill out.

I'm not having a nervous breakdown.

I'm out of vitamins

And might be suffering from lamentation—

I'm not spending any money

And my whole life is backed up

I like, really need a hug

But all these broke dirty brown dudes

Remind me of my ex, so

No.

No thank you.

It's not a color, it's an energy.

You can be white and be brown—

—you can be black and be white.

You can be white and goddamned purple.

But if the vibe's not right,

And the smell is off.

I'm better off going it alone,

Until I put in enough work

To be impressive to somebody

That impresses me.

—what did you create today?

Vibe check.

The problem is,

I like guys

That everybody likes.

The Standard.

I dig creatives,

And well-groomed

Uppercut, upper class

Gentlemen

I like dudes who know how to dress themselves

Without it a woman

But still know how to respect them.

I like possessive guys

That are protective

Without getting angry—

All humanity granted,

I prefer silence to violence,

And getting a chance to be —

Nevermind.

I just like being alone—

But I need a hug

And I rub my own sore muscles

But it's not the same.

I want to die,

But not because I'm sick

Because the world is,

And I just realized,

That that shit is contagious.

I don't feel good.

I'm not having a nervous breakdown.

I'm out of vitamins and fruit and vegetables.

I guess you could beat my face in if you wanted to—

But don't blame me for talking to much,

When I shut up

Just to get rid of motorcycles

That I was made to think

Were all in my head

But as it turns out

Are very much real,

Very much loud,

Very much illegal,

Very much abusive

And very much toxic.

You can go ahead and beat my face in—

—but at least let me finish eating lunch first

Just in case my jaw cracks,

Like last time

And I can't chew anything

Or my tongue is too swollen to swallow.

—just let me finish lunch first.

Just—

Leave me alone.

I'd leave New York if I had the money to.

The only places I want to work won't hire me.

Being a DJ is like being a building in New York.

(They're everywhere and if you throw a rock, you'll probably hit one.)

The terrorists on my block ride motorcycles.

Nobody stops them or seems to care besides me,

They tend to attack when I'm trying to rest.

Maybe I shouldn't rest.

Maybe I should just die instead.

I am, after all—

Kind of useless.

I am—

After all—

Kind of worthless.

I am, after all,

Not skinny, or pretty

Not seeing anybody in my league as

Attractive at all

And therefore

Must be

Purposeless.

I'm not having a nervous breakdown,

I'm out of nutrition.

I'm not a gold digger,

Because if I were,

I wouldn't be so picky with looks.

I don't care about money so much as creativity and emotional maturity.

I'm not having a nervous breakdown,

I'm out of vitamins.

—what did you create today?

“Whatever, man”

I had half a mind to move the alter into my studio and force myself to fall back asleep