Miss Farley

Greetings Miss Farley, welcome

-Hi…

Don’t worry about it, just relax. I’ll take care of the rest, but I need you to be calm and comfortable. And most importantly, I need you to be sincere, to talk with your heart, with your soul.

-All right. I’m feeling calmer now; I’ll be fine I guess.

Excellent. So tell me, do you know why you’re here?

-Not really, no. I mean, I didn’t expect to be in this situation. All of this is kind of strange if you think about it.

Strange? In what sense?

-Well, I get to be around lots of people every day. I just try my best and do my job you know? But I don’t expect people to remember me… or to actually care about me. They are not here for that.

But you do realize that this “act” of yours touches the hearts of these people. Maybe not in a significant way, but you do inspire them in a certain level.

-I don’t think about it much. In the end what I do is pretty simple… pretty mundane. I do it with a bright attitude, but for me it lacks whatever magic they seem to find in it. So it’s weird. It’s weird that you shall have me here; that you would want to ask me all these questions. I don’t know what to think about it.

You may not notice, but some people can actually see behind the curtains you put on. They see through this mirror wall. They know it’s your job, but they also know you are real. There is a real Miss Farley in there.

-But why would they want to know the “real” Miss Farley. There is nothing in there for them.

Because of the charisma you portray. You appear as appealing as you can be, and that lures them in, that makes them care. They need to see how much of it is real.

-But even then, they would only remember me for a couple of days and get on with their lives.

Precisely. These feelings are light and fragile, almost ethereal. Like the rest of their trip. They embark on the journey for the quick powerful experiences. They want to feel alive, and discovering the real Miss Farley is part of that adventure… that search for experiences.

-Maybe. Still, it is pretty unusual for me to actually think about all of this.

Tell me, do you believe in ghosts?

-I don’t know. I may believe in them, but also I may not. Maybe I have a deep fear of the “paranormal” or maybe I’m just totally indifferent to it. Perhaps the concept of ghosts represents some self delusional and abstract interpretation of reality for me; or maybe it only represents a guy under a white sheet.

That’s true. I can create you, but in the end I just don’t know anything about you.

-And you never will. The more you stretch this vision of me, the higher the possibilities you are mistaken about who I am.

But, if I refuse to continue, you will disappear as well. You will become just another unknown silhouette in this universe of characters.

-What do you want? What do you really want? We may never see each other again, and that causes you some nostalgia. But when we met, there was no way for me to know about this. I don’t know you either. I may never know you.

And yet, some small part of my existence will be forever linked to you. Consciously or not, you own part of my whole being. And I own part of yours.

-Those are only images. They will fade and disappear into the vast void of time. It may be a part of you, but it is an insignificant part. And even if I try to adorn it, I will fail, like you have failed. I will only distort it, alter it; destroy the small amount of purity it has.

So, sometimes… too little is indeed too little.

-Yes

And yet, the experience as a whole is complete. I am you right now. I am that insignificant part of you. This may be over forever. But not everything will return to nothingness. That uplifting sensation brought me here, and now I leave with something as well. It may not be the real Miss Farley, but it is the real me.