I was too harsh yesterday.
Yesterday, he says! I know well you was too harsh yesterday.
I just... I just have this tremendous sense of time slipping away on me, Padraic. And I think I need to spend the time I have left thinking and composing. Just trying not to listen to any more of the dull things you have to say for yourself. But I am sorry about it. I am, like.
Are you dying?
No, I'm not dying.
But then you have loads of time.
For chatting?
Aye.
For aimless chatting?
Not for aimless chatting. For good, normal chatting.
So we'll keep aimlessly chatting and my life will keep on dwindling. And in 12 years, I'll die with nothin' to show for it, bar the chats I've had with a limited man, is that it?
I said, "not aimless chatting" I said "Good, normal chatting."
The other night, two hours, you spent talking to me about the things you found in your little donkey's shite that day. Two hours, Padraic. I timed it.
Well it wasn't me little donkey's shite, was it? It was me pony's shite. Which shows how much you were listenin'.
None of it helps me. Do you understand? None of it helps me.
We'll just talk about something else, then!

