I’m My Own Worst Enemy

(or My Inner Dialogue Part Five)

“So I was going to talk to myself today but apparently I did something to really piss myself off. I’m not sure what it was, but it must have been bad.”

[silence]

“Yessiree. I must be the worst person in the whole world.”

[crickets]

*ahem* “Nothing. Really. Nothing at all. Sheesh. All right, all right. At least tell me what I did so I can apologize.”

“The fact that you don’t know is part of the reason I’m not talking to you.”

“Ah, but you are talking to me so I win. Yay, I win! I am a win-ner! You are a lo-ser!”

“That was the worst apology ever.”

“What?! Oh, yeah. Sorry. Well, you know I’m clueless, so why don’t you just tell me and then we can go and get cake.”

“You always go first.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You always get to go first. Whenever we have these little dialogues you always go first. It sets the mood for the whole thing.”

“But…but we’re the same person. It doesn’t matter which one of us goes first.”

“It matters to me. I know the difference.”

“Fine. You go first then.”

“It’s too late now. We’re already in the middle of it.”

“Boy are we ever.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nevermind. Okay, it’s settled. Next time you can go first.”

“So you just decide something and that’s the way it’s going to be?”

“Now what’s the problem? I gave you what you wanted.”

“That’s just it. You act like its yours to give. We’re in this together. It should be an equal partnership.”

“Jeez. When did we get married?”

“Wha…?! I don’t even… How can you say something like that?”

“Usually I just move my lips and the words come out.”

“I knew this was a mistake. How I ever  got saddled with the likes of you I’ll never know.”

“Just lucky I guess. Look I don’t want to fight any more. Why don’t we call it a day and get that cake.”

“I want pie.”

“I’m always the last to know. Okay, anything you want. Fruit or cream?”

“Maybe a meringue. That’s like a fruity cream pie.”

*mumble* “You’re a fruity cream pie.”

“I heard that!”

“Sorry. Do you want ice cream with that pie.”

“Yeah I kinda do.”

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Crazed recluse and sociophobe who has taken up writing after failing at everything else. Send pizza.

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Posted in Best Of Verbatim Gibberish, Blog, Talking to myself does not make me crazy.

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Things I Will Probably Regret Later
June 2012
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