He was sitting in the corner, cuddled up inside a thick blanket, sipping his special blend of coffee, chocolate, soy milk and sugarcane juice and onion soup.
Me: that thing smells awful, I wouldn’t feed it to a dog, how do you drink it?
Tubby: Smells just fine to me.
Me: Then take it and go inside, it’s distracting me and damaging this perfect peaceful mood.
Tubby: Oh, sorry. Because of course I can’t be no part of that. You’re perfectly happy with your tea and your book and your heater. Just warm and cozy, poor Tubby has no place there.
Me: What’s with all the drama? Yes, I made it clear, a good book with a cup of tea beside the heater at the end of the day is better than all the imaginary friends in the world, that including you.
Tubby: I wish I could say I was disappointed, but I’m not. I just expected as much from you. What’s that book anyway?
Me: The Importance of Being Earnest. A classic. Been meaning to read it for a while, finally got around to it. It’s light and full of clever serious-sounding grotesque remarks on society. Quite funny too. I love Oscar Wilde.
Tubby: I thought you weren’t into classics; saw them as irrelevant and a waste of time.
Me: well, not exactly. I still like to read a classic once in a while. But you know, this one is quite eccentric for a classic, it breaks away from the standards followed back then with regards to what was acceptable in literature and in society. It’s very critical in its own way.
Tubby: I don’t care much for literature, nor for society.
Me: Okay, I’ll tell you something interesting. There’s a line in the book, which is a play by the way, that I’ve known and loved forever: “Memory is the diary we all carry around with us”. A woman says it commenting on why she isn’t interested in keeping a diary.
Tubby: You don’t keep a diary, do you?
Me: Hmmm, no. Thought of it but I’m not sure if I can face my actual thought in ink. I might write things in some sort of a code, but never the crude real thing. Besides, I think it’s too risky. I mean, what if I wrote it and someone read it?
Tubby: Big deal! It’s not like you’re going to write down nuclear launch codes.
Me: It’s not like that, you idiot! I mean, for example my mom kept a diary when she was a teenager, she never mentioned it but few years ago one of her cousins mentioned that she once took a peak at my mother’s diaries, and she told us something which made me laugh actually but… I wouldn’t want my sister for example to one day stumble upon my own diaries, I’ll never hear the end of it!
Tubby: You make your life sound more interesting that it actually is
Me: Because it is more interesting than meets the eye. Well, it’s more interesting inside my head at least.
Tubby: But it’s interesting too to read things years after you’ve totally forgotten about them.
Me: That is for sure. And it’s funny, and somehow scary when you remember certain incidents in your life and think of the chain of events that followed, because everything is connected, no? I mean, sometimes I think of what could have been…
Tubby: That’s a slippery slope
Me: I know! But I don’t regret things, I’m sure this is the best and most suitable course for my life. I just think of what could have been if I had chosen another path, took different decisions, at different points of time. Like, what if I majored in sociology instead of languages? What if I took that job at the telecom company over the one at the translation company? I mean, even my friends would probably be totally different people.
Tubby: Why do you think of these things?
Me: I don’t know. Sometimes it’s amazing, I mean… I distinctly remember times when it felt like God sent me signs to choose a certain path or He made me steer away from something I was intent on doing, and which could’ve changed the person I am radically. Things that go back way to when I was 11 or 12 years old. You know you tend to be more self-destructive at that age…
Tubby: I have to admit you’ve been making some wise decisions lately
Me: I’m trying. You know, there’s that saying I heard in a movie that’s “In everyone’s life there is a crack through which the light comes in”. And then I thought, the point is to be able to recognize it. I mean, sometimes something might seem like that crack that lets light in but in reality, if you examine it closely, you’ll see it’s just a mistake.
Tubby: But mistakes could be tempting.
Me: Naturally. But at a certain age you know that the long term consequences are not worth the short-term satisfaction, which is more often than not a false satisfaction.
Tubby: Good, I feel less worried now.
Me: Hmmm, why were you worried?
Tubby: No reason in particular. Now I need to go pour this horrible drink down the drain…