Relative Deprivation - II

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They were together laughing and talking about something they probably saw online; I almost felt jealous seeing them. I wanted to not mind and continue minding my own business but I thought to myself I could use a small break and socialize with some people here because my hands were almost in the completion process of merging with my keyboard; I am soon to become one with the peripheral, part man and machine, the computer man. The thought of it made me chuckle for it made me sound like a comic-book character rather than a poor charity case on the internet or reality TV documentaries that Jessica Soho might interview with her tea or photos or snapshots of me posted online on clickbait article banners with captions "You'll never believe what this man did went through" beside other article banners about sex improving drugs or a millionaire wife.

I stood up from my desk and approached them with ease, Heather noticed me first and gave me a small wave and an optimistic stare; a stare of amazement or wonder perhaps that of a child observing Orangutans in the zoo and then sir JD whose eyes widened cartoonishly accompanied with his iconic boy scout smile "Hey Matt! What's up?" he leaned to the nearest cubicle casually.

"Nothing much, I'm on a small bathroom break and I heard you guys talk so yeah."

"Oh we were just talking about "Talking About Something" Heather snickered, I had no clue what she was talking about or saying, perhaps it was an inside joke between them.

"What she means to say is we were talking about conversations in general," said JD

"I don't get what you mean, uh like the idea of conversations in general? The concept of conversations?"

"Yeah!" Heather exclaimed in a Eureka! manner as if a scientist had discovered a scientific breakthrough; the image of old vintage 1950s science fiction magazines pop up inside my head, the ones that I read as a child specifically H.G Wells and Ray Bradbury. "I don't know why though it just sounded meta, so I went with it."

"Yeah very self-ironic and so-aware, oh wow how amusing." Sir JD usually had this sarcastic glow and demeanor whenever he was in a good time or having fun at poking something, either it was at his expense or some co-worker's silly terrible story. "Yeah, well other than that I honestly think small talk is dying."

"Really now? How so?" Heather's brow raised, "Because, for me, I just think people have too much time that they would rather talk about anything but themselves."

"I don't know, that's an interesting take but quite reductive, for me it's a matter of self-absorption." Sir JD had a look of exposition, the kind of face he makes when he's ready to info dump on something that interests him. I have been a witness to this during dinner parties outside, me and Other co-workers would be seated afar and he would be in the middle spouting whatever current trend, book, movie, political matter, or issue that concerns him. If you would look at our table from afar, it would have looked like an exact modern recreation of Jesus Christ's Last Supper painting. "I think we have too much information on our hands; like with the internet and stuff, to the point we've grown tired of talking about ourselves more specifically that we've grown past the need of starting with small talks."

"You mean those people that post about wanting to talk about philosophy, aliens, and life? Like those fuck small talk and more deep conversations, type people?" Sir JD then snaps his fingers as if Heather had said the most intelligent thing in the world to his ears.

'Yeah, that. We've become too smug with our information from the internet, the stuff we watch, the Google searches, and all those self-help blog posts that we think we're different you know?"

"Different how?" I asked

"Different to the point we've made this standard to shame people who do small-talks, we've basically become more individualistic than ever."

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