Earlier this morning, inside a cafe, scribbling while waiting for the rain to stop, there was a conversation between me and, let’s say, someone else. A guy, perfect stranger, suddenly sat in front of me, and asked, “Why?”
Confused, I responded with, “What do you mean by why? And more importantly, who are you?”
He smirked. “It does not matter who I am. Not that important, thank you very much. As of this point, the most important thing is the big why?”
“With all respect, I…” Not a complete sentence, and he cut me off.
“Listen. Why do we exist? Why do we love each other, kill each other, comfort each other, torture each other? Do we exist for such reason? Why do I exist? Why do you exist?” He pointed his index finger, trembling, as if his body could not take an enormous flow of energy from somewhere out of this world.
“Is that all?” I asked, trying to killing time under the rain. I did not know this person, but I would like to see his responses for all chunks inside my mind.
“What do you mean by ‘is that all’? Oh, boy. Are you that naive or what?” He made a double facepalm.
I showed him my right palm. “Say, imagine this is the palm of truth.” Continued with my left palm. “While this is the palm of untruth.” I clapped them, gently. “Now, which voice is that belong to?”
“I…uh…” He drowned in silence.
“Perhaps, the truth is, you do not really care. That’s none of my concern, to be honest. ‘For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction,’ or that’s what Newton told us. You, sir, barged in with a big why, and now, you can feel the ripples of your own question. Are you not fully prepared to drink your own medicine?”
I continued my scribbles. The waiter came. “Here’s your coffee. Enjoy it while it still hot.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Having a conversation with voices inside my head could be an entertaining activity. That guy, you asked? He did not even exist.