Shitter

What the fuck is emotional attachment? Do we fucking need it? I just made another question without answeing the first one. That’s another question. Just answer the first one please. Unless you think about another question like, does love strike lightning on the same place once? Fuck, I just asked another question, didn’t I? And another? And another? Shit, this is getting nowhere.

Random sidewalk of a busy city. Dusk. Smiling faces. Fuck them.

“Fellini” she blurted out of nowhere.
“The director or some kind of restaurant” he said acting dumb.
“No silly.” “Did he do the seventh seal?”
“No, that was…” “Swedish guy” “Ingmar…”
“Yeah, that one about death.” aggreeing with him.
“I’ll remember him later.” “Not now.” she said.
“So, What about Fellini?” he said inquiring
“Not Fellini.” “The Swedish guy.”
“Bergman.”
“Bergman is the actress.”
“What?”
“An off the hook comment.” “Out of nowhere.”
“Fucking Fellini”
“No. The Swedish guy.”

“Heard that you pissed Lana off.”
“Nah, not really intentional.” “I made a cheeky comment about her band.”
“And?”
“She went ballistic.”
“Lana? Ballistic?”
“Not exactly ballistic.”
“I just sense that it’s going to be silent between us for a long fucking time.”
“You haven’t pissed me off yet.”
“You want me to?”
“Fine.”
“Back to.”
”Back to?”
“Back to the ballistic part.”
“Do we need to?” “Alright, she just said I’m mocking her band mates.” “And I’m so fucking negative.”
“Herr Goebells?” “The dude is a fucking nut!” Paige smiling slightly mocking him by agreeing with him.
“I didn’t exactly say that.” he tried to clarify.
“Yes, you did.” “I could imagine.” “You could be a fucking prick sometimes.”
“Yes, I’m a prick but at that instance I wasn’t.” “I apologized but she hasn’t replied yet.” “She’s pissed.

”
“But you’re the king of apologies.” “We couldn’t resist forgiving you.” She said smiling and touching her nose to his.
“So, there goes the ballistic story.” “Ballistic shit.” “The silent fucking treatment.” "Incommunicado.” She continued his sentence.
"I feel for you, dude." She was a bit silent and suddenly out came a burst of laughter.

“Your turn” He blurted out of nowhere.
“What?” she was caught unaware by his response.
“You’re shit.” “That’s my shit this week.” “What’s yours?”
“I don’t have shit, thank you.”
“Ok, my apologies mademoiselle.” “What has been going on with you this week? “It’s a guy right?”
“Oh, you’re so adorable.” “How did you know?” “And fuck you!” “Bug off.” She being a bit defensive.
“Like a guy like me could never offer advices that you would never follow.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Trying to ignore him.


“Is it the guy with the long name or the one with the generic name.”
“Generic?” with her mouth resembling a "huh?"
“Yeah,” “Like, How’s your day, Paul.”
“Fuck off!”
“Or the guy with the long name.” “Juan Manuel Luis Alejandro.”
“You have no value for your life”
“I guess you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Not now.”

“Kidding.” “Lesso is the guy.” “Paul is the stalker.”
“Are you telling me the story of your life?” “And Lesso?” He's getting a bit surprised.
“You forgot Lorenzo” “Kind of.” “I’m kinda sharing it.” “There.” and she let's out a sigh.
“To me.” “Are you sure?” “Can you take my deadpan comments?”
“Try me.” she said sighing.
“I think you never take the next step.” “Or should I say you never take steps.”
“I guess I don’t like a guy if he starts to like me.”
“You’re so fucking profound.”
“I like to leave things hanging.” “Everywhere you look there’s a “what if” question.” “And you don’t even need to answer the question.’
”Questions need to be answered, I reckon.” “Or at least attempt to.” “Doing nothing is just lazy.”
“Slacker king is becoming un-lazy.” “The world is about to end.”
“No, if you don’t answer it the possibility is endless.” “What ifs, answering What if questions.” “It’s like the twilight zone.” “Why end it with an answer?” “I like this state of confusion, turmoil and even nothingness.” “The answer could be good but no thanks.” “I now you’re happy with Chloe and all but that’s not for me.
“Who’s Chloe?” with his eyes wide open
“I thought her name was…” realizing her mistake.
“It’s not and we’re not talking about me again.” “You’re so good at talking about something else
except you.” Him amazed at her way of turning the conversation around.
“It’s a gift.”
“It’s a curse.”
“Fine.” “A gift yet a curse.”
“Mr. Poetic strikes again.”

“I’m not saying anything.” “I’m the one supposed to be fucked up this week.”
“I guess it’s a girl thing. We always get our way.”
“Okay, I’m just a natural born asshole. I feel bad about Lana.” “Her silence is fucking killing me.”
“So, the adorable apologies don’t work with Lana?”
“I don’t think it’s working.”
“You kind of like Lana.”
“What the fuck?” “What did you just say?”
“You like her.” “Or in your twisted world, you would say, I like her shit, shit that she does and all the shit associated with her.”
“Are you finished?”
“Hey, we’re not psychic. But, you’re so predictable.”
“Leave it at that, alright?”
“Girl pissing off a guy? That’s new? Touchy today.”
“I guess so.”
“I guess so what?’
“I don’t like her.”
“Fuck you, I don’t like her.” “You are such a douche bag.” Hitting him in the head.
“Look, I have a lot of shit going on and I don’t want to rain shit everyday.”
“I get it.” “Sorry.”
“And you won again.” “We aren’t talking about you.”
“Girls rule.” “Anyway, my shit is boring.” “It’s the overused plot of an undecided rock chick that likes to keep things hanging because she doesn’t want to get to level 2.”
”The great unknown.”
“This is my ride.”
“I’m this way.”
“See ya soon.” “Sooner than later.”

Sooner.