I often wonder whether the people around me know that I am talking to myself. Every week I walk home from work deep in conversation with myself, surely I am not the only one who does this? I like to talk politics and to argue my point and to explain my ideas. So many things seem far more clearer once I've aired it in out loud to no one in particular.
I tend to walk around sixth form talking to myself too. I think it's starting to get to the point in which I am unsure whether I'm talking to myself in my head or out loud. I have to stop my self mid thought, and wonder if the poor year 12 walking in front of me has just heard my entire weekend plans and my opinion of Boris Johnson or if in the middle of and English lesson I've listed all the places I'd rather be in the entire world than listen to extreme feminist poems. I think i'm slowly turning into a recluse, the type of person you'd most definitely avoid; she has bright green scarf fluff all over her black skirt and tights, her hair is always some what knotty and to top it all off she talks to herself constantly. I feel like any minute now the sixth form leadership team are going to set up a quarantine around me. Any minute.
I raised this issue with my brother not too long ago, his response: 'you know, it's the first sign of madness, don't you?'. Is it? Is it really? I mean, how can you be sure? Does it just means i'm a bit more of a thinker? Oh God I hope so. 17 and I've already been diagnosed as mad, although I can't say it came as a surprise to my parents.
I think that people use that excuse of 'it's the first sign of madness' to elevate themselves from us mere mortals to seem like they never ever talk to themselves which makes them, by logic, not completely off their rocker. Surely if you don't talk to yourself, there isn't much going on in your brain? That's a bit harsh, but maybe if you do talk to yourself, there is too much gunk in your brain to make much sense of it, so it pours from your mouth uncontrollably like a beautiful waterfall of words into a lagoon of some form of order. I hope it's like that.
I don't know. The more I write this blog post the more I'm realizing that everything we do,say, write, think is just a but muddled until you meet someone or find something to shake it up and sort it out. In my case I need some duct tape over my mouth and an editor.
