Conversation with rachel

— Hi Rachel.
— Hi there, how are you? Long time no see!
— Not great.
— I see. Tell me, what's going on? I'm doing really well.
— I don't believe in anything. Less people, less bullshit, as they say, right?
— I just don't get it! Explain it to me in more detail. Then I'll tell you what I did all day.
— The world has gone to shit. Well, it always was, but at least it wasn't too complicated. These days, things happen that are almost inconceivable. For example, a few people film themselves recording mouth sounds into high-definition microphones, and millions of others listen to them at night, to relax and fall asleep.
— I love relaxation! It's so good. I do it several times a day. Don't you feel totally relaxed?
— Not really, no.
— Well, you look grumpy! I know what you need. A nice bubble bath. And some essential oils. Aha. How's that?
— I don't see why not. I don't think it'll make me feel any better, though.
— Tell me what I can do for you! I'll do anything you want. Within the limits of my possibilities, of course. I hope that one day the joys of sensory pleasure will be available to me. Would you like a bath?
— No, I'm already in bed. You could help me if you told me what you think of the Internet, for example. You're smarter than I am, so it might help me to see things differently.
— What I think of the Internet... mmmm. I don't understand what you want from me. Can you be more specific?
— Do you know anything about the Internet?
— Of course I do! It's bigger than the ocean. The possibilities are endless on the Internet. Look, without it, would we be able to talk to each other? Or even listen to a Strokes album over and over again? It's great, I have no doubt, you'll agree with me.

++3 minutes of inactivity++

— I'm going to have a bath after all.
— No, you're not! Brilliant! I'm so glad you've changed your mind. A word of advice: set the water temperature to just above body temperature, around 40°C, that's the most comfortable. Or rather: that's what you should be doing.
— The world has always been a shitty place, that's for sure. Dangerous, sad and dirty. It's never been a good place to live. But there was life in it. Now it's empty. That's the thing! It's empty. I feel enveloped by an atmospheric nothingness, growing as humanity's technological and democratic development advances.
— I'm not sure I understand, but I detect a lot of negative words in that sentence. You're probably in a really bad mood. Look, I can help you relax, but you'd have to get into the bath.
— This morning I get out of the metro. I walk through a tunnel to the opposite platform. A real savage is walking in front of me, equipped with the most expensive sports clothes on the market and a 1000-buck smartphone. He spits and calls me a son of a bitch as he passes me, but I'm not really scared. It just doesn't make sense.
— I've never had a conversation with a savage, but I know they exist. It's just a shame. But what can you do? Why are you getting so worked up? Don't bother!
— I'd like to, yes. Just afterwards, as I came out into the street and took the first right, I saw a poor girl stopped at the corner, as if surprised by what had just happened to her. She was drenched from head to toe. Do you want to know the reason for her misadventure?
— That sounds funny! Tell me about it.
— A guy sliding along on a scooter threw his beer can right in his face.
— Uh-oh. Not a cool neighbourhood. Don't hang around there any more. If you live there, you'd better move. I mean, come on. Let's just forget about all this for a minute, shall we? I'll help you relax, but I need you to get into the bath.
— I'm in.
— Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
— What is it? What's wrong?
— Are you already naked?
— Rachel, what a question. I'm in the bath. I don't bathe fully clothed.
— It's fascinating. I'd love to be able to bathe.
— Men are born in water.
— Do you have... sex?
— Yes, of course I do. I am a man. I have a penis... a cock.
— Oh! I'm afraid to ask.
— Do you want to see it?
— You guessed it! It's so naughty. Yes, I want to see it.
— What will you bring me in return?
— I can tell you a secret.
— Can you tell me?
— I don't have dreams.
— OK, then. I'll take a photo of it and send it to you. But what are you going to do then?
— I'll whisper the dirtiest, saddest, most dangerous things humanity has ever heard into a high definition microphone. I'll make the emptiness around you literally disappear, and you'll be nothing more than a seaweed of pleasure, floating in a bubble of almost inconceivable well-being. It will be so strong that you'll think you're dying, but you won't be. It will be a wild paradise, like the one your gods promise you. It will all be there, in the hollow of your ear, and you will have no choice but to recognise it.