A Rooftop Encounter

"The view is beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is. I've never seen the city glowing so brightly. Do I know you?"

"No. We haven't met. I like your hair. Pink suits you."

"Thank you! Will you tell me your name or is that bound to remain a secret?"

"I like a good secret."

"But it's a pretty mediocre one."

"That depends on what giving it up would reveal."

"Ok, if you say so. But do you plan to speak in parables for the rest of the evening? Because I was appreciating this breathtaking look, sipping my espresso martini and happily wandering alternate universes before you made an appearance."

"So I'm getting on your nerves? Disrupting your peace."

"Yes. Disrupting my peace, definitely. But we're at a rooftop bar and the DJ should start playing every second now, so had I looked for pure solitude tonight I wouldn't be here."

"Well then I'll stay but let you wander in thoughts for the coming minutes."

"Strange idea but why not."

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"Have you done that before?"

"What, not spoken? Stayed silent? I sometimes try, yes, it is quite refreshing."

"Sit silently next to a stranger for what must've been twenty minutes at least, without any of the usual distractions."

"I... have done that before. Once."

"What was it like?"

"Intimate."

"And now?"

"Intimate. But different. For you?"

"Uncomfortable, at first. Weird. I had to hold myself back from blurting something out at least a dozen times. But then I started feeling really peaceful. And then, a bit later, when we looked at each other without speaking... I don't know, I felt strangely naked. But it was ok. I mean it was...I felt safe."

"Safe. Yes. By sitting in silence we can give space. We make room for the unspoken. The unspoken is not avoided. Well, you notice it in the quality of the silence. When the unspoken looms large, the silence is thick. People can't bear it. They all look for a way out. But there is a different silence. This was one of them. We all contain multitudes. In such silences, that becomes known. We know nothing about each other practically. Yet we've shared an honest silence. That breaks the ice like no cheap line."

"It is strange to encounter someone willing to do that."

"I agree."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Because we get addicted to noise. Few of us can sit alone, by themselves, in silence. We crave distraction."

"What are we distracting ourselves from?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

"Not to me. And I think it isn't to most people."

"From being meaningless. From wasting life. From not facing the existential problem of being."

"I guess people who share long silences with strangers they've just met aren't naturally inclined to small-talk..."

"You asked."

"I did. And I appreciate the honesty. But do you really think people scroll through Instagram and take in news, commercials, reels, headlines, influencers, series and all just to avoid facing the fact that they're leading existentially meaningless lives?"

"Not just. But it plays a big role. The simplest way not to worry about a meaningful life is by distracting yourself so much that you make absolutely sure, your life will be meaningless. You drown in noise. But as you look around, most people do the same. It has become the norm. Of course, only a minority truly questions norms. People might notice that they feel a bit more at ease when they spend less time glued to screens. But they rarely understand that the screens themselves are not an issue. Well, not the main one anyways."

"Aren't you explaining something very mundane through something overly profound? Brain scans of extensive social media users show that their brains essentially look like those of gamblers. It's an addiction."

"For sure. And that is no contradiction. What do you think an addiction is?"

"An escape. Choosing the pain and pleasure you know to avoid the chaotic pain the world may have in store for you."

"Right. An escape that becomes a prison. After a while, you may try to escape that prison you've built, but you've fortified it well and the doors that stood open when you came in are now well-guarded. It's not much different with social media or, recently, AI partners. You get maximum control. Gambling is controllable, so are drugs. Not in the small. You don't know if you'll win a million or lose a million this time. You don't know exactly what effects a drug will have on you when you take it. But you get to know the game.

You start to understand. Here, you are safe.

Objectively, you aren't and bystanders will likely see you as an uncontrolled maniac, totally ruled by urges. Both are true. You are in control of your downfall because you've handed over control to those neural pathways entrained to keep you locked in, to keep you engaged, keep you in the game. You've handed all control over to the game - whichever one you're playing. That's why it makes you feel safe. You've chosen to be a gladiator in the arena and your opponents change, but you've lost yourself so much that you feel safer in a killing arena you know than in the outside world you don't."

"That was quite a lot. I see you're not one to take things lightly."

"Don't complain about my earnestness. You asked, I answered. I'm not in the game of superficial talk or that of downplaying myself."

"I can tell. Oh, the music has started. Groovy. Sounds like good house. May I get you another drink? And then, enough said. How about a dance?"

"Make it a light one. I'll be waiting over there - dancing.