Conversation

How was MY day?

Conversation? You want to ask me how my day was? I’ve no conversation, but I’ve so much to fucking say. You wanna know what’s on my mind? You really want to know? Fuck it, you wouldn’t understand. It is us, I tell you, it is the war we’ve been fighting for ever! Never ending.

Conversation? The first time that we met we didn’t make any. Your eyes burned right through me, and I knew right then I’ve no prospects, and no conversation.

Conversation? Let’s get jobs, I’ll work nights, and you work days. We’ll pass each other in the corridor for a few minutes and pretend everything is hunky-dory. Let’s have children and let's make love and let me become an unattractive, frustrated 20-something suburban mom with a penchant for Vodka Martinis and Cabana boys in Goa called Bugger X.

Conversation? Let’s marry for convenience, everybody is doing it. Oh, right, lets make money. Money is everything, isn’t it? Money, ambition. Fuck! Why not screw that guy over the street in the dirty looking house? Curtains always closed, what’s he doing in there? Who is he doing there? This bimbette stays with him sometimes, and they look pathetically happy when they emerge, and he looks kinda nervous around her, like she’s a half broken piece of fucking valuable china.

Conversation? Let’s talk about what I did today. I thought of you again. And again, and again, and again K.....

How was YOUR day?