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#smalltalk
The bus stop is empty again. A gust of wind blows my hair across my eyes "Quite cold out isn't it?" I jump. "Sorry, did I startle you?" His eyes are blue. No, one is brown. He has heterochromia. "No- um, I didn't see you, Yeah, I suppose it is a bit cold" He glances at my scrubs, "Where are you headed this early?" I give him a look. “The hospital…” He smirks. "Isn't that your bus then." A bus pulls out the stop and speeds away Wait- "Oh shoot that is my bus!" The stranger laughs, his eyes crinkle at the sides. "Well here’s my bus, so I guess this is goodbye" I sigh. “Bye then.” Pretty eyes.
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Aug 18, 2025
Aug 18, 2025 at 12:53 PM UTC
Small talk at the bus stop
Oh, last night, did you see what happened to that bloke on TV? Well I were shocked, it baffled me anyway, got to go. Saw the Doctor t'other day, whatshername thinks one is gay, His name? no, she didn't say, Is that my bus? His wife was out with him from work always thought he was a berk sits in the office, has a permanent smirk. See you later. Not got any news today my gossipy friend has gone away off to Spain on holiday Never said goodbye.
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Jul 5, 2025
Jul 5, 2025 at 5:28 PM UTC
Small Talk
Recycled conversations won't ever save the world. We need to stop recycling and use more one-use words.
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Jul 8, 2024
Jul 8, 2024 at 4:03 PM UTC
stop recycling
I have worked out small talk two people ask questions of each other, neither want an answer to and without listening to what the other comes up with think of the next manoeuvre until they are locked in meaningless conversation that no one can break like music, a symphony of nonsense with the guy on symbols waiting to crash out at the end
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May 16, 2024
May 16, 2024 at 5:39 PM UTC
small talk
when the sand fills, and the hands of time caresses you into submission, freedom feels a little too overrated a concept. we are puppets dangling at the side of a building, waiting to be taken off the clothesline or by the wind— both of which we know we'd gladly take just to end the discussion. i am a firm believer in whispers. small talk isn't too small for me. i hold my words too close to my chest i barely breathe without them. so now, as my eyes fail me, i wish time will be so kind enough to tell me how all of this ends. i do not want to suffer more than i already do— and i do not need another lesson on how to survive in this god-forsaken life. yet everyone feels compelled to give me one anyway.
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Oct 23, 2023
Oct 23, 2023 at 5:12 PM UTC
i swear the ghosts are made of my skin
People will keep talking But I don't have to listen Others will continue to expect And define my existence They will try to take away What's left of my childlike innocence And even then, the things I do Are still none of their business How can I feel okay? When they become restless From me not conforming to their way They only see it as reckless Their shallow mouths spew words Bringing upon damage that is endless With the naive intentions to help Yet, why do I feel more helpless? Childhood criticisms cling to me Leaving me defenceless Whenever the guards of my walls Become tired and careless I thought it'd be easier to live If I was just passive and selfless Until I was driven to the point Where I couldn't tell what was precious I have now accepted that it is okay That I do not share the same ethics The differences found in me Should not make me so apologetic
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Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 3:05 AM UTC
Shallow Whispers
I don’t know you not really anyway it’s small talk if not silence but I do know that you want to be reborn as flowing water me as a ray of light maybe in another way in another life just maybe we could learn to love each other
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May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 6:37 PM UTC
Our silence
My thoughts get polluted in the short span of time it takes them to run to my tongue. Intent evaporates, I find myself spewing banality with confidence. Dubious sense of humour fails to land a punch; I dodder past with a faux grin. Finally it’s time to pass the baton to another unwilling candidate. I nod pleasantly as we continue our dull charade of camaraderie. Once upon a time being sociable meant exchanging infrequent messages. The small talk prattles on… I think about the lost luxury of writing letters.
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Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 12:29 PM UTC
Small Talk
I fear living for someone centring someone in my universe I fear not not wanting to be alone constant noise in my silence I fear wasting my time on someone putting my life on hold for them to leave I fear a lifetime of small talk being a product of their routines and races I fear not finding belonging not being in control I fear the prison of my mind never finding the person I don't fear with I fear not being special in the insignificance never being not afraid to be vulnerable I fear only existing
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Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 4:44 PM UTC
I fear
I hate small talk Although it's a start It's always the same questions Those questions beg similar answers "How's your day" "Do you like the weather" I want big talk Two intellectuals conversing I want to talk about space The intricacies of clouds The beauty of the world Or even controversies Let's all take the time to move from mere small talk to big talk
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Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC
Small talk
Swerving in, I re-enter A roundabout conversation Driving mindless words You make me flushed It gives me a rush As all of our cars Scramble out of our garages Directionless.
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Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 9:58 PM UTC
Small Talk
I do not say What a day contains The conversation dull Though you may ask I will pass To speak would all be bull.
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Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
Zipper Lips
I don't judge you out loud I laugh when you want me to and smile at convenient intervals and lulls in conversation in life
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Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 2:26 AM UTC
Nice
Chaos devours me; let's small talk and pretend that everything's fine.
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Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 8:20 PM UTC
A depression haiku
Ignore the veiled murmur beneath the social graces and party conversation excuse this bland ****** arrangement feigning interest in tales worn thin cruising the same old Memorial Parkway. This, and the embedded gravel marking each grim rotation: expectation disappointment anger the weight of relentless perfection.
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Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 11:38 AM UTC
Etiquette
We communicate Through weather pattern and change. Love through jet stream line.
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May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 2:44 PM UTC
Small Talk (Haiku)
I'll meet you in Paris and we'll talk about the weather. It's just small talk though-- something to fill the silence, you'd think we'd know better.
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Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
Small Talk and the Weather
i'm sick of having to initiate conversations i'm sick of sending a 'hi' only to get a 'yeah im fine.' i mean, i don't really mind that you don't care to reply even a short little "and you?" or "how's your life?" but, for god's sake, stop killing conversations i'm the patron saint of small talk and copper coins biting lips and stretching for questions that you won't bother to return the favor for. i'm sick of initiating conversations, of second-guessing and wondering just exactly how annoying i must be, constantly sending you updates on what i'm thinking but when you haven't been replying it gets me hesitating. i'm predictable at best and i'm starting to think that you're discovering how jaded being with me makes you feel. i'm the same old story the same old small talk the patron saint of lying and faking it. i'm sick of losing friends because my insecurities stop me from speaking and they have too many other people to be seeing to even worry about checking in on li'l ol' me. i'm sick of stuttering my way through conversations with people who don't give me anything to say how am i supposed to answer you when you refuse to give me more than 3 words about your day? thanks for the update, three years late when i'm finding out all the great things you've been doing but i'm still the same the patron saint of small talk again stuck watching life happening from behind my screen maybe that's the real problem i've been having everyone else is living and i'm decomposing i don't have the courage to step outside my home but god, oh god, i'm sick of being stuck alone
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May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
small talk
i'm sick of having to initiate conversations i'm sick of sending a 'hi' only to get a 'yeah im fine.' i mean, i don't really mind that you don't care to reply even a short little "and you?" or "how's your life?" but, for god's sake, stop killing conversations i'm the patron saint of small talk and copper coins biting lips and stretching for questions that you won't bother to return the favor for. i'm sick of initiating conversations, of second-guessing and wondering just exactly how annoying i must be, constantly sending you updates on what i'm thinking but when you haven't been replying it gets me hesitating. i'm predictable at best and i'm starting to think that you're discovering how jaded being with me makes you feel. i'm the same old story the same old small talk the patron saint of lying and faking it. i'm sick of losing friends because my insecurities stop me from speaking and they have too many other people to be seeing to even worry about checking in on li'l ol' me. i'm sick of stuttering my way through conversations with people who don't give me anything to say how am i supposed to answer you when you refuse to give me more than 3 words about your day? thanks for the update, three years late when i'm finding out all the great things you've been doing but i'm still the same the patron saint of small talk again stuck watching life happening from behind my screen maybe that's the real problem i've been having everyone else is living and i'm decomposing i don't have the courage to step outside my home but god, oh god, i'm sick of being stuck alone
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I read somewhere the other day that small talk keeps the brain sharp, So that's probably why I'm stupid   But I don't understand the fascination in needing a vacation and the weather, or where you bought your brand new ******* sweater. I'm sorry I can't participate in your name brand conversation, but talking about your Michael khors watch just seems like such a bore. What I really want to ask you is: Have you ever screamed your lungs out on the top of a mountain? Or have you ever tried to drown yourself in the shallow waters of a fountain, Have you ever watched the sun spit out pieces of gold on a quiet little creek? Tell me all the things that used to make you feel unique. When was the last time you felt whole inside? When was the last time you blatantly lied? Who do you want to fall asleep next to every night? Tell me what you think about our nation's lack of human rights. How many weekends can you go not being sober? Tell me what you really think about the boy who ******* you over. Why are you so afraid? Do you fear you'll explode like a grenade? I feel like that sometimes. But I know I'll never get anywhere if I hold it all inside But your mother told you always be polite, And never bother anyone with their personal insight Religion, and politics, don't ask too much For everyone may get into a fuss So everyone walks around talking about things that don't matter, With worlds as shattered as a broken wedding platter Everyone wants to talk about what's on the outside, but some fear holds back the depths of our soul. And finally when you're six feet under, you'll realize you've just been digging your own hole
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Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
small talk keeps the brain sharp
I read somewhere the other day that small talk keeps the brain sharp, So that's probably why I'm stupid   But I don't understand the fascination in needing a vacation and the weather, or where you bought your brand new ******* sweater. I'm sorry I can't participate in your name brand conversation, but talking about your Michael khors watch just seems like such a bore. What I really want to ask you is: Have you ever screamed your lungs out on the top of a mountain? Or have you ever tried to drown yourself in the shallow waters of a fountain, Have you ever watched the sun spit out pieces of gold on a quiet little creek? Tell me all the things that used to make you feel unique. When was the last time you felt whole inside? When was the last time you blatantly lied? Who do you want to fall asleep next to every night? Tell me what you think about our nation's lack of human rights. How many weekends can you go not being sober? Tell me what you really think about the boy who ******* you over. Why are you so afraid? Do you fear you'll explode like a grenade? I feel like that sometimes. But I know I'll never get anywhere if I hold it all inside But your mother told you always be polite, And never bother anyone with their personal insight Religion, and politics, don't ask too much For everyone may get into a fuss So everyone walks around talking about things that don't matter, With worlds as shattered as a broken wedding platter Everyone wants to talk about what's on the outside, but some fear holds back the depths of our soul. And finally when you're six feet under, you'll realize you've just been digging your own hole
Continue reading...
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