[freewrite: reflex]
Apr. 28th, 2011 07:06 am"Was there ever something you wanted to tell someone? And it seemed really important that they understand, like if they really knew what you meant, this weight would be lifted off your chest and you'd finally be free? But maybe you were too afraid or they refused to listen so you never told them or they never understood, and sometime later, it wasn't even important anymore?"
G. blinked. "Are you sure you're not just telling yourself that?"
"I tell myself all sorts of things. Today I tell myself I don't care. How 'bout you?"
"How about me--?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Do you care?" H. was looking wide-eyed and blank again.
"Depends, doesn't it."
"I guess it does." H. contented himself with his coffee. It was really bad coffee, but that was the beauty of it. Do most people even appreciate the beauty of bad coffee? So much better than bad soda, which was just inexcusable, he thought.
"What are we talking about again?"
"I don't know. I was thinking about this coffee, and how bad it is. This place really sucks."
"You're the one who wanted to come here! You even dragged me out of bed at one in the morning just to come here to drink stupid coffee, and you don't like it?!"
"But see, see." H. licked his lips patiently, sniffing the acrid scent of the diner's own unique brew. "Mmmm. The badness is the beauty of it. If it was good, you'd get addicted, y'know?"
"You get addicted anyway, you moron."
H. chuckled. "True, true. One of the ugly truths of things, innit?"
"You're certainly in a weird mood tonight. So let's have it-- what's wrong? I'm sleepy, you know."
"Drink your coffee!" H. took a long swallow. "You won't regret it, trust me."
( ....where does this shit come from, anyway...? )
G. blinked. "Are you sure you're not just telling yourself that?"
"I tell myself all sorts of things. Today I tell myself I don't care. How 'bout you?"
"How about me--?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Do you care?" H. was looking wide-eyed and blank again.
"Depends, doesn't it."
"I guess it does." H. contented himself with his coffee. It was really bad coffee, but that was the beauty of it. Do most people even appreciate the beauty of bad coffee? So much better than bad soda, which was just inexcusable, he thought.
"What are we talking about again?"
"I don't know. I was thinking about this coffee, and how bad it is. This place really sucks."
"You're the one who wanted to come here! You even dragged me out of bed at one in the morning just to come here to drink stupid coffee, and you don't like it?!"
"But see, see." H. licked his lips patiently, sniffing the acrid scent of the diner's own unique brew. "Mmmm. The badness is the beauty of it. If it was good, you'd get addicted, y'know?"
"You get addicted anyway, you moron."
H. chuckled. "True, true. One of the ugly truths of things, innit?"
"You're certainly in a weird mood tonight. So let's have it-- what's wrong? I'm sleepy, you know."
"Drink your coffee!" H. took a long swallow. "You won't regret it, trust me."
( ....where does this shit come from, anyway...? )