The Digital Cliff

The following is a theoretical proposition:
Two persons are conversing in the middle of an unrealistically large room, narrow too, let’s say 1km by 1 m. Crazy narrow. Now, imagine that as they are speaking, they begin to back away from each other. They are making their dissimilar beliefs/values physically manifest through the space they are perpetuating between each other - person A encumbered by the incalculable, invisible weight of emotional labour, and B not only unencumbered by this, but disbelieving of its existence, as it is, as mentioned, not tangible, and if person B cannot see it, person B refuses to believe it (‘Show me the money!’ person B yells, gesticulating their arms wildly with a slap-happy smile plastered on their face). They continue talking, the volume of their voices fading proportionately to the distance between them, until –
Person A is cut off, completely, person A has dipped off the cliff, and to person B they’re mute and silly-looking, eyes full of feeling and mouth moving madly, emitting no sound, just useless, just aggravating the jawbone, just plain sad. Person A must still succumb to the insidiously violent words of B, so person A begins inching the walls, in an attempt to get away from the noise. A magnet holds A and B equally apart, and neither can gain more distance from the other. The backing away is slow, like the torturous drip of the bathroom tap.
And, suddenly, A and B are yoyo’ed back together. The process begins again.

Therefore, there is no follow-up question for the proposition, nor, of course, any answer. Merely dissatisfaction.

And so they dance, forever.
Nuances develop, but the situation remains the same. Tuned in, tuned out.