A conversation:

X: What drives you? 

By: Nothing drives me, but I drive a Volvo and I love it.

X:  May I presume from your reply that material things drive you?

Y: No my dear sir! That was only a feeble attempt at jest on my part. My apologies if I failed to amuse you.

X: Ha! Humor me all you want, but answer my question decently

Y: I don’t know why do you still expect any decency from me? *Sigh* let me try. I think my passions drive me. You know when I write I can taste bile and all the nerves in my body are electrified. I am so full of energy, especially when I am writing something good. What drives you by the way?

X: Oh it’s nothing!

Y: Come on! I told you now it’s your turn. Open up!

X: Suffering drives me.

Y: Sadist!

X: well! You asked for it.



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