Day One- pt. 2

Darin had been expecting me. The first thing he asked was "How many times did you screw up?" I admit it, at one point, when driving, out of no where I uttered the word 'what.' That was all. 

I wrote him that I didn't screw up at all. He'll never know. 

I took his picture. 

Then he took mine. 


We sat down and had a couple of beers on his cold front porch, and proceeded to have a nice, long conversation, in which I wrote everything I said. 
I noticed, while doing so, that these were the longest pages I'd written all day, and that they were going fast. Mental note: buy more notebooks. 
He asked me more specifically about how the piece had been going. Here's some things that I wrote:
"I don't think I realized how much I relied on conversation to be happy. I feel like no matter what I write, I can't make myself understood. I can only write so fast, and conversation moves so quickly. Multiple times, I just gave up."
"I had a question about a slide in class, and by the time I wrote it, gave it to the person sitting next to me, and convinced them to read it out loud, we were already past the point where the question made any sense."
"I have been noticing a lot of things I wouldn't have noticed regularly. What the fuck is that music?"
"Looks on people's faces, light coming through windows, the way people look when they speak. Even my friends who I know very well."
Conversation continued in this one-sided manner for a little while, until I mentioned that i shoudl probably be getting back to my studio to start writing this blog.  Out of no where, Darin asked me how many keys were on my keychain. I being, being a fool, pulled it out to count them, at which point he took them from me, and informed me I couldn't leave until I said something. Out loud. 


I quickly wrote on my pad that I thought he was being a sadist, to give me back my keys, how could he torture me like this, etc.  
(Although I should mention, at this point, it was 17 minutes until 11:00 pm, at which point I could 'legally' start speaking again-- I was just worried about getting everything done, which is of course, par for norm.)
This exchange of insults surprisingly lasted 17 minutes, until a magical little alarm went off in my pocket, signaling the toll of the bell. I opened my mouth, for the first time al day, and asked him politely to give me my keys back. 
Speaking, after not having spoke all day, was a very strange experience. My voice felt bizarre in my own mouth, and I had the sensation that I was listening to my own voice being recorded on tape. It echoed inside my head, which apparently is an echo chamber for the voice. The sensation lasted for about 20 minutes, and then it was back to normal. 
One day down. 6 more to go.