. . . . .
Sunday, 27 January 2013 @ 13:42
(In the middle of a phone conversation)
“I hate myself sometimes.”
“I don’t think one is capable at feeling so.”
“What? How come? I do hate myself. So?”
“Sometimes. One is incapable of hating something sometimes.”
“Uh…Do elaborate.”
“To me, hatred can occur in split seconds, but take ‘centuries’ to be removed. During the process of removal, hatred will be temporarily permanent. So, your indication of hating yourself sometimes seems unlikely.”
“Well, don’t take it too far. It was just a figure of speech.”
“So, how long do you actually hate yourself then?”
“To be honest, I don’t.”
“That’s a lie.”
“What the..? I actually don’t hate myself in that weird temporarily permanent sense.”
“So, you love yourself, is that it?”
“Uh…I don't really want to put it that way.
"So, you love yourself, right?"
"Err...How do you suggest I answer that without sounding narcissistic?”
“By saying that, you love yourself sometimes.”
“That sounds pretty odd.”
“At least you would sound logical.”
“What?! OK. Whatever. I seriously don’t see the matter of how long one hates or loves or whatever.”
“It actually really matters.”
“Oh, yeah? How so?”
“Intrinsically.”
“…”
“I sometimes measure the length of it.”
“That’s absurd.”
“If you use the right tools, the right methods, sure you can.”
“Are you high?”
“No. Why?”
“Damn it. Don’t ask me back. I was being sarcastic. What’s the matter with you?”
“Conversations should have questions. If not, how can it last?”
“I beg to differ. Won’t it turn into an interview?”
“With you, I mean. Conversations with you will work if there are a lot of questions.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Our past conversations that contained approximately 90 questions last in an average of one hour and twenty minutes.”
“No kidding! And I suppose, you have been measuring this conversation too? Heh.”
“Until now, it has been precisely three minutes and 16 seconds.”
“What the…”
“Yes. Precisely three minutes and 16 seconds.”
“…”
“And now, three minutes and 18 seconds.”
“…”
“Now, I’m counting your silence.”
“…”
“Why did you say you hate yourself, again?”
“…”
“OK. Now the length of your silence has increased by 1.5 seconds.”
“…”
“Sigh…hello?”
“…”
“Hell-o..?”
“…”
“Your silence now has just increased to 2.5 seconds.”
“You are weird.”
“Your silence is overall, one minute and three seconds.”
“What…?”
“Phew. I thought you’re going to remain quiet.”
“I was about to until I imagine your puppy face turns soppy.”
“Do you still hate yourself?
“Yes, now that I’m talking to you.”
“You can be very mean sometimes.”
“False. I am mean, every time, naturally.”
“Oh, yeah? Give me some numbers.”
“Err…O…kay, I just did. I was being silent for one minute and three seconds.”
“Your calculation is wrong.”
“What? That was your calculation, wasn't it?”
“You were mean, sorry, have been mean for three years, two months, a day, a minute and three seconds.”
“Err… I’m sorry?”
“Apology not accepted.”
“I mean, what did you just said? About the three years thing…?”
“Oh.”
“Uhuh?”
“…”
“Hello?”
“…”
“You are so weird.”
“How do you feel about one being silent at you?”
“Oh! There you are. To be honest? It makes me want to slam the phone down, makes me hate myself. Well, sometimes.”
“It makes me hate myself too, except, more than sometimes. And for some reason, I don’t want to slam the phone down.”
“…”
“It makes me hate myself more and more, for every second of silence.”
“Alright, alright, I get it. How do you suggest I make it up to you?”
“No, don’t. It’s not your fault.”
“Fine. What do you want me to do then?”
“…”
“…”
"..."
"This may sound ambiguous. I just, I want you not to be silent..."
"That's not applicable. I can't promise you that."
"..."
"..."
“And your silence is now…”
(Phone is hung up. A long monotonous tone is heard.)
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5...6...7...