Confession. Confession's bullshit. Confession's saying you did something wrong. I don't believe in that. I'm an anarchist, remember? So here's my truths, bitches. My hidden truths.
Truth: I was never thought of myself as anything but heterosexual. Until my Angel. An Angel of the first degree.
Truth: I've been to Santa Fe. Can't fuckin' stand the place. I only talk about openin' a restaurant there because it gives us all something to dream about, to hope for. That and it's just about the only damn thing that's guaranteed to get a laugh.
Truth: I think Joanne is the sexiest thing I've ever seen. No, second sexiest. Nothin' beats my Angel.
Truth: I was in a pretty bad accident few years back. Had to have a blood transfusion. That's where I got AIDS.
Truth: I'm married. Sort of. Married this girl I went to college with. Roger knows her. Just doesn't know that we never got around to filing the divorce papers. In legal terms, she's my estranged wife. Haven't seen her in ten years.
Truth: I was with Roger the first time he shot up. He was eighteen. Just a kid. I knew I shoulda stopped him. Instead, I waited for him to finish, then shot up myself. It was my first hit too. Unlike Roger, it was also my last.
Truth: I never ran naked through the Parthenon. One night, I was drunk and a little high and told the boys I'd run naked through the Parthenon. It was just a joke, but they got all excited and impressed. I didn't have the heart to tell 'em I was kidding.
