"you have something to say, and i believe you should say it. say it now, scream it if you must, but get it off your chest now, otherwise it might bury itself in too deep to ever be dislodged from your throat"
"do i? or do you simple want something of a more interesting conversation? sick of the same ol', repetitious tongue-wag that graces you every day, you want something of an unexpected, exciting expression of the unknown dwellings that reside inside my head? well, i must tell you that they are unknown for a reason."
"so you do have something rugged up, why would you bother keeping it hidden? isn't it much easier to just let it out? to let the thoughts flow into words, into sentences, into stories, into an ultimate release and relief of internalized burden? and if there truly is a reason they are unknown, can you not tell me that?"
"the reason they shall remain unknown to you is that they are unknown to me. now while i respond to your passionate search of something meaningful, why don't we spare yourself some time for a little introspection of your own? instead of this dribble of disguised notions, cough up what obviously must be stuck in your throat"
"this is going no where"
"i think i must agree, did you fully understand where you hoped to go with this? i mean, you haven't given either of us names"
"yes, i think that is rather lazy of you. this dialogue also leaves something to be desired, i mean, are we truly meant to ignore what the other is saying? it seems quite presumptuous."
"that's a bit cruel, i didn't know if i was meant to known where i was going. am i? like really guys, it's basically free writing"
"free writing? ha! would you like us to move at all? maybe a few descriptions, a couple of verbs here and there wouldn't help, should the audience just assume that we are two english gentlemen out for a stroll under a gray sky, atop of luscious green grass?"
"or lovers entangled with linen trying to know each other more?"
"well i think that should be up to the reader, it's not like this is some extensive novel"
"american literates, whispering viciously in a grand library, nearly at each others throats?"
"are we just figments of your imagination?"
"creations of the conscious?"
"desires of the unconscious?"
"am i even part of this conversation?"
"a little from column A?"
"a little from column B?"
"none of the above? do you honestly expect people to envision everything with only this boring conversation to go by?"
"are you listening? i thought most people did it without thinking, even when given cues, you can interpret them different ways"
"we are, but has that really got anything to do with what you set out to write?"
"what you wanted to vanquish from your soul?"
"i wanted to vanquish something from my soul?"
"why else would you write? what else do you write about?"
"except from yourself and the people you're not"
"what?"
"you can't possibly not be following what we are inferring here, you are the one writing it"
"carving out of your own beliefs, fantasies and what you perceive to be real and, the more dominant, surreal, sculpting into something that you can post up and pretend it's you"
"are you having a go at me"
"no, you are merely having "a go" at yourself, struggling with self-esteem in your writing, feeling inept to offer help or guidance to others because you're too involved in yourself and trying to squeeze attention out people you can't even spare a moment for"
"merely?"
"nothing more, purely, no admixture. plainly if you wish."
"plainly?"
"you ask too many questions, you make us ask too many questions, get over the self identity issue already, it's boring"
"snore"
"i do believe you have become somewhat less literate mr red"
"oh do forgive me mr blue, it seems she is tiring of this poor pun at beating herself up with the words she can mask as someone else."
"that is quite alright, i do concur that she has become lethargic in her expression, so how about we enjoy ourselves some tea?"
"i don't really like black tea"
"we're not really including you in this"
"oh, my apologies"



waste of time