Bad Conscience was waiting up for me last night to have a chat when I came home from sports. Nobody else was around. Seeing Bad Conscience is never a good sign. He was blobbing out on the sofa with his bloated tummy, burping away. Generally he doesn’t say much. You have to start the conversation, otherwise it is just an awkward situation. He sits in one corner regurgitating. You hardly see him, but he makes sure his presence is felt.

“So what’s up?” I tried to be cheerful, knowing very well he had a major concern and I could expect some unpleasant truth.

“You behaved like a girl today” he said and shook his head “Like a girl, girl, a childish girl”

“What do you mean?” I replied, as I really didn’t know what he was trying to say to me.

“You tried to change our behaviour – all the Dede’s behaviour”

“No I didn’t”

“Yes, you did…you did….you are not happy with us, so you want to change us to conform with your worldview.”

“No I don’t”

“Yes you do, you want us to be more intellectual. You said so!”

“Maybe a little” No point denying it, he knows anyway. But once Bad Conscience gets a little foothold by you admitting he is sort of right he goes off like a rocket…

“When will you learn that not everybody can be everything to you! It is not going to happen, Missy! If you need to discuss art, don’t go to Pig, see L’artiste or make a new Art Critique… You can’t make us all intellectuals. Forget it! If we can’t be who we are, we will disintegrate. There will be nothing left of us. pfffffffff” He made the sound of a deflating balloon.

“But…”

“Pffffffff”

“But…”

“Pffffff”

At this stage I gave up. I know him too well. He said his piece and left me to it. No more discussion!

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