Third World Writer

I like writing dialogues.I like trying to express relationships and events through characters’ conversations. I especially like trying to project their emotions and personalities through their words despite the limitations of spoken language. I like writing dialogues because the things we say more often than not, and whether we intend them to or not, obscure the things we mean. And yet nothing has more potential for honest expression than words. A picture might paint the wrong thousand words and actions can be misinterpreted, but the right words, carefully chosen, can correct them.

I want to write honest conversations.

On weekends and after work, when I’m walking around aimlessly through random malls, I sometimes find an empty bench, take out my notebook and scribble a few lines of conversation. What would a cheating husband tell his lover? What would a man confide to his friend? What would a prostitute tell the customer who asks only for a story?

My imagination is over-active. It’s not very good, not even very productive, but it does like to imaginea lot of things. So if once in a while I manage to post something, please don’t mind the garbage. I need an outlet of sorts.

you.

hello. mind if i sit down?

what for?

i’d like to talk to you.

you can do that standing.

i imagine you’ve heard then?

emma told me right away. you broke up with her for me.

that’s right.

that was stupid. you’re not getting me. no matter what you say, no matter what she says.

did she say something?

she said we’d be good together. i said you can go to hell.

please don’t misunderstand. i didn’t break up with her because i wanted you. i broke up with her because i realized when i met you that she wasn’t the kind of person i was looking for, the kind of person who.. suited me. you weren’t the reason i broke up with her, you simply showed me the reason to break up with her. there is a difference.

so you don’t want me?

actually, i do.

then whatever difference there is doesn’t matter. go away.

i’m not asking for much, just a little of your time?

what for?

for a cup of coffee, a little conversation, perhaps lunch or dinner? a little time to get to know each other.

as you can see, i have my cup of coffee, and we’re having our little conversation. lunch and dinner i prefer having alone, or with emma. you uninvited yourself when you broke up with her. and i think i know enough about you to know that we don’t belong together, and you seem to think you know enough about me to think that we do. so tell me, why should i give you a little of my time when i’d much rather spend it finishing this book?

because when you’re done with that book and all the books after it, you will be alone. you will look for someone who suits you, who understands you. someone who’s been through the same things you’ve been through.

someone like you?

maybe. maybe not. but isn’t it something worth spending a little of your time to find out?

i’ve spent enough of my time finding out. i’ve spent years of my time having cups of coffee, hours of conversation, years “getting to know each other”. and in the end so much of me has been wasted, so much of my time, just to find someone who suited me. a few times i found someone. one time i wanted to marry him. but in the end either they didn’t suit me after all, or they met someone else who made them realize that i didn’t suit them. so to answer your question, no, it’s not really worth it anymore.

…

sorry. please leave.

i can’t. i’m sorry. if i leave now i will never see you again.

that’s the idea.

give me a chance. one chance. one conversation. if we enjoy it, we can have another one. if we enjoy that, we can maybe have another one over dinner. and then maybe the next week. one chance isn’t so bad. lacking that, at least give me a reason.

you hurt my friend.

you know that’s not a reason. emma is strong, you know that. she’ll get over it if she hasn’t already.

fine. you have one chance. one minute. and then you leave.

fair enough. what shall i -

tell me about me.

… okay. you’re probably a middle child – third or fourth – because you don’t talk much to most people. you read a lot, around three books a week, sci-fi, fantasy and.. romance. you started reading quite early but started needed glasses only a couple of months ago. you tried writing around high-school but gave it up quickly. hmm. you prefer texting people instead of calling them up. you prefer mountains to beaches. you subscribe to science magazines and love the discovery channel. you believe in UFOs but not in god. you want to learn figure-skating but you hate the outfits they make you wear. you haven’t spoken to your mother in years. you befriended emma back in grade-school because she was as cool as you secretly wanted to be. your favorite color is blue. you are not in speaking terms with any of your ex-boyfriends, and you think the coffee here is disgusting but it helps keep the yuppie crowd away.

time’s up.

no it’s not.

emma must have told you –

she told me about the figure-skating. everything else is, well, everything else is my image of you. it’s what i see when i see you, and i can’t help but see that a lot of it is me, too. except, of course, the figure-skating.

…

listen. i like you. and i’m sorry that this is all too fast and all too honest, but this sort of chance doesn’t happen to a lot of people. so if by any small chance you don’t hate me, i would like to sit down. would you mind terribly if i sat down? i promise i won’t get in the way of your reading. i even brought my own book, see?

…

no.. ?

…

…

…

very well. thank you for your time. goodbye.

…

…

… my favorite color is green.