You sit there, looking for something clever to say. Looking up, looking around. Find it yet?
I'm so tired of this, dealing with this. Every time. Your blank face. Why can't you think for yourself? Why can't you just, just ... oh, I don't know. Why can't you just do without me?
I never asked you to come here. I didn't. You keep showing up and then you stay. And stay, and stay and stay. How do I get rid of you?
And your belongings. Where did they come from? (Where did you come from?) They're like a part of this place. Can you even recognize it anymore? Where do I live?
This is my fault. I agreed to this. It's like everything else, it always seems like a such good idea. It's just my nature. Here I am, here you are, here things go. Sound familiar?
God, I've got to do something more ... something. Just more. Time is running out but here I sit. Sit. Stay.
Anyway, do you want something to drink?