I’m in a worthless conversation, actually, I’m in a worthless monologue with a guy trying to show me how smart he is. I’m not asking for confirmation nor have I lead him to believe I’m all that bright. He’s just one of those people who needs to impress you.
That’s the thing, to me, which makes the next sentence so nice.
“I have a bad conception of time.” He dazzles with his virtuosity.
“Is that because you don’t give a fuck about time?” I ask innocently.
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