Skin Deep1989

Zach:
I've never felt this way before. I'm seriously unhappy. This is just not the bush-league blues, we're talking major-league depression here. I can't sleep. I take pills. But they only last a couple of hours and then I'm up at 4:00 in the morning pacing the f***ing house or walking on the cold f***ing beach. I'm so miserable, I wanna f***ing shoot myself. But, I can't because I'm afraid to die. How's that for f***ed-up?

Zach:
So what's the answer? Oh, I forgot. You don't have answers. Your not the burning bush. You just give suggestions. Well, I need help. I'm in the f***ing dumper. Give me a suggestion because I know you've got one. I can see it in those beady little Freudian eyes.

Dr. Westford:
If an alcoholic wants me to cure him, you know what I say?

Zach:
That's a question. That's not a suggestion.

Zach:
Okay. What do you say?

Dr. Westford:
First, stop drinking.

Zach:
I don't get it.

Dr. Westford:
Go home and think about it. That's my auggestion.