who am i, louis? am i my history i have endured? am i the job i do not want? no one has painted me in over 400 years.
[are you companions] yes. [no.]
i want you. i want you more than anything in the world.
i artlessly assumed companionship, which was wish-fulfilling delusion rooted in childhood conflict.
they were my coven for 200 years. and i could not count on your love lasting as long.
i will spend my life making it up to you. [you'll never make it up to me] i know.
the room's soiled and once again, i'm here with mop and mindlessness to clean it up!
if you wanted to escape from this prison of empathy i’ve locked you away in. all you had to do was ask.
louis thinks i'm boring. do you find me boring?
i preserve louis' happiness even when he won't or can't.
i could talk until the end of the world about what you've destroyed here.
and i locked those words away for the next 150 years. until you came along and shattered that lock.
and i thought if i'm not with him i am nothing.
everyone gone. you hear them but you can't see them.
everything that gives you happiness, gives me, louis!
my name is arun and i'm an addict.
i have been enduring intense conversation with myself.
i wish to read you something i've written from the deepest regions of my soul [you have no soul]
i look for the vulnerability within the object.
i am your maker! i cannot get into your head any longer!
it wasn't my love for louis. but it was love.
i want to be your maker. i want to give you half your life back. help you walk in the sun.
my first memory. i'm being run down by slavers in delhi. my second... an eager black hole.
i think i might be a room without walls, floors, a ceiling. an infinite nothing.
i've seen it all before. i've seen too much, louis.