Thursday, November 11, 2010
The Hidden Conversation: In Concrete
*Images courtesy of Jayne Harnett-Hargrove
"I think it's stupid, you know?" Energy's always got an opinion. It's usually wrong, fully dependent on superficial information provided by a source she wants to believe because it purports to cater to her.
"You know, you know, you know." Calm doesn't mean the repetition as an insult. It's not his style. Low-key is how he lives his life. He's just tired of useless words. He feels useless enough as it is.
"C'mon, you two." Tired's not the eldest of the three, but he both looks and feels it. Playing peacemaker is exhausting. He's too subdued to know that arguing is even more so. It's this demeanor that makes him welcome company, though he has few steadfast friends.
"I'm not arguing. But you have to admit that it's stupid. Who do these people think they are?"
"Yeah, whatever. You talk about this all the time and never do anything about it. You give a shit as much as the rest of us. Give it up."
You know what would be good right about now? Pretzels. Definitely pretzels. And maybe a beer.
Energy is overeducated and underachieved. It's her curse, her ability to understand and grasp a concept with a minimum of input. It's all so very simple, the way the world should work. Fix it from the ground up. Every time. Top down leads to abject failure. Every time. What? Go back to school and start all over? Fuck that, I know enough to make judgement from here.
Calm knows she's stewing. She's full of shit. She doesn't get people. She doesn't get life. So caught up in what it means to be academic that she never learned how to actually do anything. Or understand anyone.
Tired wonders why Calm holds it all in. And finds the irony. How Boheme of her.
Calm hasn't seen it all, but he knows he hasn't. He knows when he sees it, he'll have to deal with it. He might not be able to deal with, but he'll try, at least. It's only what directly affects him that has an effect on him. No one really cares who's starving in Rwanda. But, damn... that suicide bomber in Israel was beautiful. What a waste. Why can't I find a woman that beautiful?
Energy is incredulous. Why do I even talk to this idiot?
Tired can read her face. She's an easy face to read. Because he pretends to listen. You need an audience. Even if they're bored to tears.
Tired is, well, tired. He's lived a good life, done no one any serious wrong. Nothing he'd admit, anyway. Bygones be bygones and water under the bridge. Everyone can get along, even in the face of politics and religion. Still, they should all subscribe to the Good Book. All of that other crap out there is nothing but bullshit. Do unto others... and judge not, lest...
Energy blames a lot on the powers of history. Especially imaginary ones. God isn't real. He's just an excuse to alleviate personal responsibility.
Calm knows there's a good and bad to everything. Why whine about it? Why do you care, exactly?
If Energy could do it all over again, she'd change everything. The abusive boyfriend (never mind that she wouldn't have met the wonderful boyfriend afterward).
(Potential was the best thing to happen to her)
(Yeah, but Kinetic almost killed her)
Her career (she's creative, not corporate).
(No, she isn't)
(Oh, cut her some slack)
She even wonders what would've happened had she turned left at the gas station back in '96 instead of right. Something would've come out for the better, she's sure of it.
Calm wouldn't change a goddamned thing. The ex he chased away (he probably shouldn't have said what he said, though).
(That girl was an idiot)
(So what? He loved her)
His career (he did what he had to do when he had to do it).
(And you still haven't made any money)
(Money's not made you any happier)
Even the argument he had with his best friend the day before he died. It's grounded him. Made him appreciative. And it's part of the journey.
Tired has plenty of regrets. And plenty of hopes. All in all, though, he's content. A man once asked him out on a date (he was confused and thought about it for years afterward... the decision is still pending).
(Just come out of the closet already)
(Why should he? So you can scold him for it? Tell him you told him so?)
His career (he's never been enjoyed any of his jobs, but he's never really hated any, either).
(Do what you love. That's everybody's goal.)
(Speak for yourself).
He likes where he's sitting, right here, right now. Listening to two polar opposites whom he calls friends argue about everything and nothing at all.
"It's getting late. I should call it a night." Energy's not tired, she just wants to surf the web, research something on Wikipedia so she can later pretend she's known it her whole life.
"Yeah, it's time get home." Calm's not tired, either. But there's a book that's been sitting on his nightstand for too long and a song he wants to listen to alone in the dark.
"You two should just get married. You already argue like it, anyway." Tired smirks. He's tired. His two friends look at him, teetering between nervous laughter and faux anger. "Just trying to be helpful."
The joke subsides even if the punchline doesn't.
*To be reinterpreted in The Hidden Conversation: In Abstract
* This is the first part of what will hopefully be a nine-part entry in the River of Mnemosyne challenge that's happening over at The ...
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