Sunday, July 20, 2025

Do we answer to respond, or respond to answer?

This has been playing at the back of my mind almost since 2021.

I think I remember what sparked this question and led me to spiral into questioning my own sanity. (If my memory is being kind, it usually isn’t unless there’s a lunar eclipse.) I’d asked someone a very simple question. The kind that begs a Yes or No, followed by, maybe, a three-word explanation. But instead, I was rewarded with a 48-minute “Welcome to my TED Talk…” kind of conversation, err, speech. I remember the duration vividly, simply not because it was really insightful and has bestowed me with a once-in-a-lifetime sort of wisdom, but because:

(1) Every second felt like death.
(2) I had important work right after that meeting.
(3) I was catastrophically sleep-deprived (coffee has stopped keeping me awake!).

And the kicker, you ask? My question remained unanswered.

I replayed that conversation in my head later and realized only to realize what absolute tomfoolery!

It kept happening. Like yesterday dressed up as today, especially in work emails. But not just emails, in face-to-face conversations too. With people I know inside out. People I even like! People who claim to be great communicators (and occasionally flex their narcissistic flair. UGH!). I ask something simple, and suddenly I’m an audience member in a one-woman/woman/man show I clearly never signed up for.

Imagine asking someone, “What kind of music do you prefer?”, an absolutely normal, straightforward question. What do I get in return? An over-detailed breakdown of a some release that I have no idea about that “caused emotional unrest in their fanbase,” followed by a masterclass on musical renditions of a genre that I have no interest in. A mouthful for my earful. Excellent.

At some point, I started wondering: Do people even listen anymore? I mean, really listen? One-on-one conversations have become a nightmare. Dear Gods of Verbosity, what will thy take to listen to my plea? This should be especially easier when you are texting. You have time! You can read. Process. Frame a response. Maybe even edit in your head. I really hope we get money for over-talking, oversharing, overwriting, and beating around the bush but not making a point. So many of us will be millionaires! Totally forgot to mention: my mother is this close to earning the official “Goddess of Verbosity” crown, after decades of turning a two-minute story (especially on the phone, where conversations can last six hours until her phone begs for mercy and a recharge of positive and negative ions) into a full-blown audio marathon. By now, anyone who’s met her knows I’m not signing up to split my toothpaste and sanity with someone for life. I mean everyone, including some stranger who'll never meet her again.

Okay, I know I haven’t exactly gotten to the point, but some replies seriously read like they were typed while escaping a natural disaster. I’m honestly stuck wondering: Do I try to make sense of this conversation, or just let it sweep me away and hope for the best?

So what is it? Short attention span? Intellectual fatigue? Gen Z’s retribution? (I will not bring up the answers I corrected during my two-year assistant professorship. No. Just... never.) And and. I will never have any kindness in my heart for people who use “U” instead of “YOU”. I will not mention anything for a certain person in my life who uses “U A” for “YOUR”. The minute I read it in our conversation, I want to escape this dimension for good! But unfortunately, the next minute I am still here, glitching, trying to make sense of it and figure out how to reply keeping my sanity intact.

What exactly fills the gap between reading and replying? 

I have no clue. All I know is that e-v-e-r-y-t-i-m-e it happens, my brain decides to jump headfirst into its own little hamster wheel. Analyses reanalyses never deduces anything...until I think of it all again and am yanked back to reality with a ping! Yet another email notification. 

But sometimes my brain gives up and asks me to handle it single-handedly.
To everyone who dragged me into this existential communication spiral, I’ve found the perfect revenge: I’ll wait until I’m on the brink of total sleep collapse and reply to your messages just before slipping into unconsciousness. ISTG!

Mercury’s in retrograde, my patience with people is on life support, and this weekend I was blessed with a stunning display of Olympic-level verbosity. Nothing like drowning in decorative sentences before coffee. What a perfect way to wind up my week. I am absolutely flowing glowing!