When conversation isn’t just a simple exchange of verb or oral mechanisms in which humans act as grammar-speaking people but is a discussion in which the interlocutors speak for real about something, a curious phenomenon appears.

As the conversation grows, each one’s personality dissociates progressively: a part of it listens to what is said and collaborates to say and the other part, attracted by the theme of the conversation, goes increasingly quicker and hides deeper and deeper in the intimate depth of itself. There, this half of the person begins to think and think and think about the subject.

When we converse, we live in a society. When we think, we are alone. That’s why, I think, I always feel alone, even when there are some people chatting with me. I think too much. The problem is that in this kind of conversation, we do both things, we have this splitted personality in the same time. And as the chat develops, we diminish the attention in it and drown deeper and deeper in ourselves. I can barely think and speak of write in the same time. That’s why there are a lot of silent moments in my conversations, or in my everyday life, and that’s why I can be a really prolific writer or chatter some time later. After some time, short or long, I feel the need to express lots of the things I’ve been thinking and keeping for myself during a while. Even if sometimes I should think about it twice and not just once before telling it.