"Freedom? The freedom you talk about isn't freedom at all. What you're talking about is having nothing to lose, nothing worth compromising over. Fuck that freedom, I've been there, it's called acting like a fucking sociopath. What makes me free are the things that bind me, the things that I have made a conscious fucking choice to cuff myself to. I may not be free, by your definition, but I give a fuck about my life, and that's more than I can say for some of you. Can I get up tomorrow and do every fucking thing I want to do? Act on every fucking fantasy I have? No. Because if I had that freedom, I wouldn't be free to care. I wouldn't be free to have anything that mattered to me."
"You know what I do have? A life that is ninety percent fucked up, and ten percent fucking amazing, and I'm fucking happy with my numbers. Ten fucking percent makes a lot of the bullshit, all of the bullshit, worthwhile. I get to wake up in the morning, and know that through this fucking gargantuan effort I make every day, something is going to not suck. So tell me again, how I am betraying myself by compromising, fucking ever. Because from where I sit, I get to put value on all of this shit, when I have a shitty day, I can say that something happened, somewhere, that balances it out in the end."
"So sit there and wait for something to happen to me, so you can self-righteously fire away the "I told you so" that you need to spew to make yourself feel better about not having a goddamned thing. I will give exactly as many fucks then as I do now. Approximately thirteen less than I've spit out in telling you this."
"Sir?"
"What?"
"I just asked if you wanted creamer with your coffee."
"Oh, two please."
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