Who is he?

He's the same as he's always been.

Who was he before?

How should I know?

Then how do you know he's the same?

He hasn't changed.

But you have no point of reference.

Why should that matter?

How can you tell if a song has a chorus if you don't know the verses?

You should just know how it flows.

To do that, I would have to live the song. I would have to inhabit the sockets between the notes and pray that no one discovered me humming through a life that wasn't mine.

If that's what you have to do...

That's not what I want to do. Why should I compact myself into the claustrophic existence of someone else?

Why should it matter what you want?

Don't I have a choice?

One would think.

If one were to think, one would inevitably come to no conclusion. The complete circularity of both logic and irrationalism inexorably steams you back into the starting gate.

Why do you think that we become so childish as we die?

We are being shunned into the current of someone else's song.

Why don't you sing your own tune?

Sometimes I lose my voice.

So what? Hum along if your chords are worn out. Or whistle.

Sometimes I want an orchestra.

We can't always be a symphony.

That's true. Sometimes I don't even think I am an off-key whimper.

Well, hell, that happens to everyone.

Yes, but suffering makes you want to be unique. It is such a purification, a burden, that you want acknowledgement of your sacrifices. If everyone has made those sacrifices, who's watching?

Is that what you want from your travails? Shall I snap your picture and stencil "Martyr" beneath your sour mug, so that you can staple it to the wall in pride?

I didn't mean that. I was generalizing a human truth.

I would not go so far as to term it universal.

If it's all the same to you, I'd like to rest for the coming struggles. I am beckoned towards unconsciousness.

How often do we talk like this?

Not much, anymore.

And you would pass it up for the stirring of latent subliminal yearnings?

Yes. I have guilt enough for the both of us.

Then goodnight.