𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚊𝚢𝚖𝚊𝚗.

Why must you complain about things that can't be changed?

You mean, why do I cry over spilled milk? It's because my soul has the aftertaste of burnt wood.

You do tend to irritate and annoy others at their own expense, but again, I ask why?

Driving people up a wall has its celebratory moments. You should try it.

Have you never experienced the same negative treatment you've cast unto others?

Have I tasted my own medicine? I plead the fifth. Nothing to see here...

Surely you must've confronted the consequences of your actions at some epiphanic juncture where bubbles go to burst.

I have faced the music a spell or two — existing as unsavory ballads of self-pity.

I see... I commend your candor and relinquish any suspicions.

Thank you. I can use the benefit of the doubt. Unless... you are yanking my chain.

I would never tease or joke about something for the sake of pampering the ego. Nor would I utter inappropriate or offensive phrases by accident.

Are you claiming perfection? Have you never been forced-fed the soles of your feet?

Of course, I have. In a moment of intense emotion, we may speak impulsively without thinking, resulting in the release of volatile words we can never retrieve.

Yes! The heat of the moment has dragged my character through the mud during several bouts of prideful angst, leaving scorch marks on relations.

We must remain civilized and optimistic during those times.

Keeping my chin up has proven difficult when I feel my efforts go unnoticed. As a rule of thumb, I do not rely on approval from others.

Exactly! Sounds as if you are beginning to grasp the beneficial qualities of conduct. A turning point in your whirlwind of interactions.

My head is wrapping around your words... You perform the devil's advocate too well... who are you?

Good question... Let's just say if you play your cards right, we will meet again at this very bench in years to come. Only you will be sitting where I sit, allowing observations to flow to the next. We have more in common than you know...

*

And just like that, in a blink of an eye, he is gone, leaving me craving more food for thought.

I have a strange intuition… that shrewd, old man... was me.