All these delusional, impetuous bits being spat by Vincent after eating that rotten breadstick at his not really favorite restaurant but the only one opened at 2:42am are just preposterous aren’t they? Or rather, being thought of. So in a way, Vincent aren’t really doing anything wrong at all. Well he is, but he’s the only one who knows, so if he can just choose to forget about it, ya know?
Oh but you also know that Vincent can’t. Can’t in a way that he physically, culturally, emotionally and psychologically can but morally can’t. Vincent ain’t no robot. Not even humanoid robot either. Androids are better. Vincent doesn’t want nor need to be and blend in with those androids, pretending to be feeling creatures that think, think that they probably should mimic the hysteria of their former selves.
Maybe there is no nobility in self-indulgent integrity. Is there in a carbon copy?
So Vincent got tired of the night sky, drove home, decided to eat some shit food, started hallucinating and came up with a theory about whether or not this girl who doesn’t know his name would ever miss him not being around – something which she did not know was happening – anymore. So what’s wrong with that? As far as anyone but Vincent, hell maybe even Vincent himself, can know, Vincent’s at peace. Madeleine didn’t do any of it. But as long as it never happened, anything else is possible, the potential is endless. Vincent was just having some fun with it. It was the last deal of a dead man.
But Vincent isn’t dead. He can. Vincent is content to know that. And on top that mountain driveway when Vincent thought of the moment where time begins, he soared. Without the wings of oblivion, Vincent is sure of the origin of Madeleine’s love, and it wasn’t a silicon flower.
It’s been too long since that timeless bullshit session over the dreamy hilltop that Vincent can’t quite catch up with all the deeds to which he thought he’d want to start giving thoughts. Vincent can’t quite possibly put a finger on it, on all those noises of yesterday Vincent was promised he’d have time to think about. Fingers shaking. But that is mainly due to the fact that the boi got food poisoned. Yes, from that breadstick. So Vincent drives to the hospital.