Lost

Act 5 Scene 1 - Lost

(a hot and smoggy day, The Smoker sits with a spiral-bound notebook in hand)

C: What's that?
TS: It's this list of all the conversations I've had with Cigarette, that are worth blogging about.
C: Is this one gonna go on the list?
TS: Naw. I think I'm just gonna go in and write this one right after this. It's more gonna explain my long absence in posting.
C: I don't get it. You have all these conversations written down and you're just too lazy to transcribe them to your computer?
TS: That's not quite it. I only have summaries written down, here. And because I've been trying to do them chronologically, I have to sit down and remember all the conversation, even though it's been, like, more than 3 weeks since the earliest ones took place.
C: Why don't you just toss that list, and start a new one?
TS: Cuz there's like, a bunch of really good ones, plus it would mean I wasted time writing the summaries, and I hate wasting time.
C: That's totally absurd! How much time have you wasted sitting in front of your computer as you tried to remember these conversations?!!? Beginning to write the dialogue, then forgetting a part and starting over, then getting pissed-off, and giving up because you couldn't even remember what made that particular conversation worth writing about in the first place...shit, man. Talk about a waste of time...
TS: (smoldering)...
TS: ...Fuck you, Cigarette. Fuck you.

(The Smoker crumples up the list of conversations, among these "Lost Dialogues", one titled "Peaking", one "Sacred", and one called "PageRank". The Smoker drops Cigarette in the ashtray, the list into the trash, and exits)