I don't know why you've spoken to me now. I know neither your true intent nor your motivation. But your words were too fiery and spoken with too much conviction for me to accept this as sincere. You are not someone who speaks without deliberation. You meant what you said. And how you said it.
What was the point of this meaningless exercise? You feel no true remorse. You are a case, Ms. Karimov, of someone who hides behind the illusion of speaking plainly.
For fuck's...I acted badly. Where I come from, if you act like a shitheel, you acknowledge that you were a shitheel, and you apologize for shitheeling. Typically there's no subsequent psychoanalysis session.
What, you want to meet up? Will that convince you? For fuck's sake, I don't - We had a disagreement that I mishandled. People have disagreements. There's nothing wrong with that. And now I'm apologizing for the mishandling. I really don't see why it's necessary to...rend your garments and wail about cruelty when there were just some badly-chosen words spilled and then mopped up.
We did not have a disagreement. You threatened me. You mock my condition, then and now. I have committed no crime against you, and yet you continue with this disrespect.
[he rakes his hand down the side of his face, drawing blood. he sounds a little unbalanced.]
I realize that it means nothing to you. It does not need to. But you could, at the very least, keep yourself from sneering at something that you don't bloody understand!
[that just gets a rough, strangled growl of incredulous rage. there's the sound of something heavy -- like a hammer -- striking a wood floor, and then he's hung up.]
Look, "Have a nice life" is a thing you say when you're not going to be speaking with a person again. And I was trying to edit it for accuracy. Most people would appreciate that.
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[The rustle of a shrug.]
And I speak without deliberation all the time. Though I'm flattered that you actually think of me as calculating.
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What.
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As you like.
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There is nothing nice about it. Nothing.
[he grinds his teeth; spits.]
I will have no more to do with Ashraf. Not so long as he spends his time with someone as cruel and honorless as you.
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[She bites down on her exclamation, finally spitting:]
Feed me a fucking script. Tell me what the fuck I should say to avoid inflicting your so-fucking-noble soul with base fucking suffering.
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[he growls into the tablet.]
You did not even care to speak in person.
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[he rakes his hand down the side of his face, drawing blood. he sounds a little unbalanced.]
I realize that it means nothing to you. It does not need to. But you could, at the very least, keep yourself from sneering at something that you don't bloody understand!
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