He almost walks out. Because that's how Mark does things. When he's upset, he leaves. Walks out into the open, where no one can touch him, hold him back, keep him contained, where he doesn't have to expend such efforts into trying to understand the way others think when it varies so greatly from his own calculus. Instead, he pours himself out onto the internet, which is limitless, boundless, where accountability becomes an afterthought and the flow of words is never stemmed. Even when experiencing moments of elation at having found a better way to streamline code, Mark escapes from reality, wired in and only caring about efficiency. He almost walks out right then, because Eduardo keeps on talking about not knowing Mark, in spite of the way Mark's pretty sure he's never hidden any of it, his frustration at how Eduardo's good enough with people to get punched and accepted into the Phoenix, how he landed a girlfriend who— albeit crazy— was willing to do just about anything for him, and the tipping point of it all, when Eduardo both acted the part of and treated Mark like a child, freezing an account which was tantamount to keeping facebook online. Mark knows that Eduardo doesn't think much of his ventures. Doesn't understand the beauty of code, the philosophy of open source, how it gains more credibility and respect than turning to the private sector and turning into the next Microsoft.
But Mark's never tried to hide his thoughts about it all. So why, he wonders, why is Eduardo still confused?
What stops him is the empathy, so rarely shared between the two of them, but absolutely crucial when it is. All friendships need that equal ground upon which both can stand upon. Maybe, in its own way, this is what they've needed for some time. No Sean Parker, no Phoenix Club, no facebook. Of course, given the choice between the two sets, Mark would return immediately to Palo Alto, try to make everything work for him there, but.
He knows saying that would tear Eduardo apart even more, and Sean's already been too hard on him. His eyes roving, swimming about, unable to hold on a single spot, Mark turns to the side and mutters, barely audible before he turns around and determinedly walks to the entrance and hopes nothing else will distract him and keep the two of them in that room with air even more stale than the Science Center on a muggy summer day. "I shouldn't have diluted your shares."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-05-15 08:34 am (UTC)But Mark's never tried to hide his thoughts about it all. So why, he wonders, why is Eduardo still confused?
What stops him is the empathy, so rarely shared between the two of them, but absolutely crucial when it is. All friendships need that equal ground upon which both can stand upon. Maybe, in its own way, this is what they've needed for some time. No Sean Parker, no Phoenix Club, no facebook. Of course, given the choice between the two sets, Mark would return immediately to Palo Alto, try to make everything work for him there, but.
He knows saying that would tear Eduardo apart even more, and Sean's already been too hard on him. His eyes roving, swimming about, unable to hold on a single spot, Mark turns to the side and mutters, barely audible before he turns around and determinedly walks to the entrance and hopes nothing else will distract him and keep the two of them in that room with air even more stale than the Science Center on a muggy summer day. "I shouldn't have diluted your shares."