Broken Echoes

Milton: I’ve explained it as well as I can. If you don’t get it, you never will.

Thacker: No you haven’t. You’ve barely touched the surface of the thing.

Milton: I have. You just haven’t listened or cared enough to understand a word I have said. Your loss. Your problem.

Thacker: I have cared very much. I have listened to you for hours, complain about how unlovable and pathetic you believe yourself to be, and how you believe no one gives two craps about you. But basically you’re mad because you won’t be satisfied until all people, in all places, are bowing down at all times to worship and exult you.

Milton: You haven’t listened to a word I have said. What else is new? I doubt you took me seriously either. No one ever does. I’m just a poor, wretched cynic who knows nothing but cruelty and sarcasm. Ah well. No one loves me nor do they give a hang. I’ll see you later.

Thacker: Stop hiding! Stop bringing all of this up and then not explaining anything at all about it! I don’t get you.

Milton: No one does because no one makes an effort. Their loss.

Thacker: When was the last time you made an effort to care or to understand another?

Milton: I always try. They never let me.

Thacker: You do the same thing.

Milton: I’ll see you later.

Thacker: Let’s have this out right now. You’re a jerk, ok? No question about it. Let’s not debate it. It’s true. You complain about how you have no significance but what are you doing to find any or to fit in? Nothing. You never try. You just…..

Milton: Don’t talk about things you don’t understand. We are two very different people. I’m sure there are a few similarities, but don’t you dare try to erase my pain, fear, loneliness and anger  by sayings have done so by such and such measures. They’re not me. I’m not them. I’m my own man. A not very good one, perhaps. A waste of time and space? Very possibly. But a human being nonetheless. You can never understand my loneliness nor my despair because you’re not me. I am not meant to live among any of you. Somehow I was placed here as some sort of practical joke, or maybe just to fill out the scenery. Honestly, I have no idea why I am here. But I am. So, while I am instead of everyone ignoring me and ridiculing me, I wish they would show me a lot of love and concern all the time.

Thacker: You just want to be a god, an authority, a power-holder. You want all the attention placed on you when it’s convenient for you. The instant you’re not in the mood for people and their attention, you want to be all alone to write all about how big of meanies other people are. You don’t care about people but you want them to to love you all the time even if you feel nothing at all for them, you want nothing  from them except their time, attention, and love. And you believe you are not entitled to give them back anything in return. It’s a shame you cannot return it.

Milton: Again, you’re not me. You don’t know what I receive nor what I give. I guess you’re correct though. That’s all you care about: Being correct. Well, congratulations. I’m a jerk and a bum. Thanks for not giving a hang. Bye.

(End.)