Page 266
Posted: Wed Feb 11, 2026 12:58 pm
— Well, yes, you’re right. It leads to conflict immediately.
— Well, then, don’t ask anything at all.
— Fine, then what should I talk about? What do I say to the employee when we
meet?
— Wait until he speaks first. Your task is to maintain the conversation while
avoiding any unpleasant dialogues — unpleasant for both him and you —
so that there is no conflict. The task is this: do not react to anything, do not
argue, and do not provoke with any questions. Even themes that might
infuriate him or you — try your best not to bring them up, even if they seem
to be surfacing; it’s better to steer away from those topics.
And again they tell me: “It will be painful for you.” I say: “Fine.” But something
else is interesting. As I communicate with this voice, I suddenly remember
that a long time ago, in 2009 and 2010, I remember communicating with
this voice 24 hours a day. I recall that I wouldn’t take a step without asking
them — I called them “they” — asking whether I should do something or
what would come of it. I asked about everything. I specifically remember
instances, say in 2009, when a person would suggest a meeting, and they
would tell me: “Don’t.” Or when I was chatting with someone and they’d write:
“Alex, let’s meet up.” I would immediately turn my attention to them —
to those above, to this voice — and ask:
— Why does this person want to meet with me?
— He wants to borrow your laptop again, — they would answer.
— No, he wrote that he just wants to go for a walk.
— Well, test it.
And I would say to that person: “Sure, yeah, let’s go for a walk.” And he’d
reply: “Hey, can you bring your laptop along?” I remember back then the
voice was so strong — I heard it so clearly and believed in it so much — that I
was always in a kind of vacuum. It was just the voice and me, just “them” and
me, and that was it. I was young, only 19, and I remember my 19-year-old
friends would literally mess around while they were on social media. They’d
be chatting with someone and ask me: “Listen, this girl sent this message,
— Well, then, don’t ask anything at all.
— Fine, then what should I talk about? What do I say to the employee when we
meet?
— Wait until he speaks first. Your task is to maintain the conversation while
avoiding any unpleasant dialogues — unpleasant for both him and you —
so that there is no conflict. The task is this: do not react to anything, do not
argue, and do not provoke with any questions. Even themes that might
infuriate him or you — try your best not to bring them up, even if they seem
to be surfacing; it’s better to steer away from those topics.
And again they tell me: “It will be painful for you.” I say: “Fine.” But something
else is interesting. As I communicate with this voice, I suddenly remember
that a long time ago, in 2009 and 2010, I remember communicating with
this voice 24 hours a day. I recall that I wouldn’t take a step without asking
them — I called them “they” — asking whether I should do something or
what would come of it. I asked about everything. I specifically remember
instances, say in 2009, when a person would suggest a meeting, and they
would tell me: “Don’t.” Or when I was chatting with someone and they’d write:
“Alex, let’s meet up.” I would immediately turn my attention to them —
to those above, to this voice — and ask:
— Why does this person want to meet with me?
— He wants to borrow your laptop again, — they would answer.
— No, he wrote that he just wants to go for a walk.
— Well, test it.
And I would say to that person: “Sure, yeah, let’s go for a walk.” And he’d
reply: “Hey, can you bring your laptop along?” I remember back then the
voice was so strong — I heard it so clearly and believed in it so much — that I
was always in a kind of vacuum. It was just the voice and me, just “them” and
me, and that was it. I was young, only 19, and I remember my 19-year-old
friends would literally mess around while they were on social media. They’d
be chatting with someone and ask me: “Listen, this girl sent this message,