Wish You Were Here

‘So, how are you getting on in San Jose?’ I asked.
‘Actually,’ I answered, ‘I’m getting itchy feet. It’s a bit sterile here, affluent but soulless. It’s just shiny shops and shiny bars…’
‘Poor you, it sounds awful…’
I sniffed the air. ‘Do you smell sarcasm?’
‘Some people would kill for shiny shops. People who live in slums for example...’
I ignored me. ‘A shopping mall is my idea of hell, but I don‘t think it’s what Nietzche meant by suffering...’
‘Christ on a bike. It’s not life and death, it’s a 40% off sale at GAP.’
‘Anyway, I think it’s time to move on. It’s time to hit the road and see what happens because…’
‘Please don’t say because “the road is life”.’
‘… because “the road is life”.’
‘Oh, puleeze. You’re such a pseud.’
‘Screw you,’ I said taking a step forward.
‘No, screw you,’ I said taking a step back.
‘You have delusions of poetry. Have you not finished this little escape from reality?’
‘I’m not escaping it.’ I frowned again. ‘I’m going towards it.’
I stared at me. ‘Oh, really? And what exactly are you going towards?’
‘I was dissatisfied with what I was doing before. Now, I’m away from everyday clutter, I’m experiencing different things, I have the time to ask myself some questions and refocus...’
‘And how’s that working out for ya?’
‘It‘s not easy, but “the unexamined life is not worth living” as said Socrates.’
‘Pseud. I think you just need to get laid.’
‘Screw you.’
‘Yes, my point exactly. Listen, you can get into a lot of trouble thinking too much...’
‘You can get into a lot of trouble thinking too little.’
I thought about this.
‘And I’m going to stop writing this.’
‘What?’
‘Well, it started as a writing exercise and also to explore the things that interested me. But when I’m doing interesting things I don’t want to write, I just want to do them. It’s becoming a duty, I’m becoming a tool of the tool.’
‘You are a tool. Besides, I thought it was just a vain attempt at recognition and validation.’
‘Screw you.’
‘How long are you stopping for?’
‘I don’t know. I’m taking a digital detox. Maybe one day it will all make a good story.’
‘I can’t wait...’
‘This is Sebastian, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off.’
‘Ah, finally, a pop-culture quote. You’re still a pseud.’
‘Screw you.’
***The two Sebastians roll across the floor fighting. Lights fade to black.***