Ask me about the rain

                
              I hate small talk. Small talk – what a perfect way to describe it. Because those conversations are really small. So insignificant to our lives. And I’m not talking only about things like: I’s a nice weather out there. Damn, It’s raining. Thank god It’s weekend already. No. I don’t really like all those stupid questions people ask you when they get to meet you. Where do you work? How much do you earn? What are your parents doing? Do you have a car? Where did you go to school? Why do they care for such trivial things? Is this really helping them to know me? Because my job doesn’t really tell that much about me. Not many people follow up with a: Do you like what you do? Did you always wanted to do this? How many people ask for your favourite memory from high school? Or your worst teacher and why you didn’t like him? This can say so much more about the person, don’t you think? But people like plain, boring facts. They don’t need to follow them up with more questions.

                If you want to know me better ask me about the rain. Not about if it would rain tomorrow. Ask me if I like the smell of the rain in May. Ask me what I do on a rainy afternoon. Don’t ask me where I work, but what are my dreams. Don’t ask me what my parents do, but what they have taught me in life. Instead of asking about money, ask me what makes me happy. Don’t ask about what I had for dinner but what would be my last meal if I was sentenced to death. Don’t ask about my religion but about my life philosophy. Don’t ask me if I liked the book, but what did I get from reading it. Don’t ask me about politics, ask me about the world I would like to live in.

                Doesn’t it sound much better? Much more interesting? It works both ways. Don’t tell me about your office job. Tell me what you do when you get back home, how you forget about it. Don’t tell me what you bought or how much you spent. Tell me, when was the last time you did something for the first time? I really don’t care how many pools your hotel had and what drinks they served on your tropical holidays. Tell me, how did you feel during the journey? What did you find out there? Did you come back wiser? I don’t want to know what car you drive. Did you ever got in and just drove without a plan? Where did you get? Tell me about the best day of your life. Tell me about the first time you broke the law. Tell me how you got in trouble in high school. Tell me about your favourite time of day or night. Tell me something nobody knows. Tell me whatever you like, as long as it matters something to you.

                The problem is – people don’t like questions like that. Maybe it’s because they are not use to them. They stumble with their answers, because they have to think. It’s so much easier to answer like robots. I work as a secretary. I have a Ford. I was in Italy. I support democratic party. I graduated from here and there. Did the art of conversation disappeared with years? Did we lose it in the pace of today’s world? Or did it never exist to begin with? Maybe we always liked to hide ourselves behind plain facts. Let’s start asking for more. Let’s start looking at the world through other people’s eyes. Let’s talk about something other than everyday life. Isn’t it enough we have to live it?