Conversations rooted in deep thoughts. That's what we all talk about when we're really talking. You know, really talking? Not about the weather or about wanting to fuck one of your DJs or kitty cat stories. Really talking about the kind of stuff you have to tug and uproot from the depths of your heart. Stuff you wouldn't just say to anyone but only to those who you think share those thoughts -- or at least only to those who you think will actually understand.
Are we the only ones who talk about that shit? Are we really on another level? Do the Steves and Stephanies talk about them, too? Are we ever having the same conversation as someone else in North Dakota? Are we really that full of ourselves or are we just really delusional to anyone else but us?
We were walking back from our favorite smoke-infested bar and money came up. He said he laughed at himself the week before because he got up at 7:30 a.m. just to get his paycheck. He said he realized then that he, too, is a capitalist. That's when I admitted that sometimes I go on online shopping sprees at 12:30 a.m. on Friday nights as soon as my direct deposit hits. I mean, I'm one, too. We're both sorry.