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'My mind is merely a memory,' He had spoken.
'A continuously churning memory
Fueled only by the deadness of my own self-being.'
He sighed.
And I attempted to meet his eyes with my own eyes
To signify a silent moment of mourning or
A sentimental second of understanding.
His eyes only met the black wall of its eyelids.
He spoke again.
'I often feel as though death is nothing
More than a devious con that somehow manipulated
The universe into existence.'
'I cannot see the universe forming on the basis
That it would eventually wither back into
The nothingness from which it came.'
'Surely the universe is not so suicidal.'
And he sighed again.
And his eyes were still closed but his mouth was
Open like a gaping pit of never-ending stupor.
I sat there in a disturbed silence, a dreadfully
Absurd silence contemplating what he had just said,
And what I was to say in logical return.
'Well..' I stuttered.
'I find it to be quite plausible that the formation
Of the universe was caused just by a mere mistake.'
'That life and death are nothing more than a product
Of this mistake: a simple yet intricate coincidence.'
And I shifted as he slowly lifted his eyes toward mine.
'That is pure balderdash,' He sputtered.
'Complete and total senselessness,' He spat.
'I have never heard such stupidity spill from
A mans mouth - such blatant and careless incompetence.'
He sighed yet again and then grimaced at me for what
seemed to be hours.
He was throughly disgusted by my ignorance.
He put his face in his hands and spun his head
in circles.
He eventually collapsed from dizzyness and I
shuffled hurriedly out of the back door.
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