Everyone loves a good story, right? I am no exception, but what I am (as far as exceptions go) is someone who will openly (and honestly, thank you) admit to being that person you know who talks to themselves. I do. I am the one who will not shy from it. I will not make excuses and I will not deny it. I am forever and constantly talking to myself, telling myself sometimes the best damn stories out in this big green world. I can come up with some real doosies. Dang...I can entertain myself from the moment my eyes open to the second I fall asleep praying. I don't mind being blunt about this because I am just so damn good at it. George used to love it when I'd pretend with him being the hero. Dachshunds are like that you know. They are super heroes in disguise.
Most of the time when I reach outside someone else's comfort zone, I'll quickly stir the pot by asking them if they talk to themselves and if they do, if they answer themselves as well. It's not something the average bear asks, and it's not something the other average bear admits to (readily) anyway. Nine times out of 9.5 times they say no. I think I see them shift just a little, and they either cross their arms across their chest in an attempt to somehow protect themselves should I pursue the matter (I generally do) and they may sort of walk away from me. That's when I know the truth. That's when I know I have them....on the hook!
Everyone loves to hear a story, and most of us have one to tell. I just like to make up new ones as often as possible, and let the day's events add to the fiction. I pretend (mostly silently in my head) and I create reasons to open my eyes a bit wider, my ears may prick a bit, and I could see something inside of something that wasn't there to begin with, but if it had been there it would sure add a bit of welcomed flavor to the overall tale of the day! I might start off with pretending I found a baby in the dumpster; cute little thing, and then start trying to sort out where he came from, who dropped him off rather than taking him to the hospital, it's just right there! I live about 1000 feet from a very large hospital complex. Was the baby born there? Was the mom OK, was the baby stolen? Too many questions. I need answers. The day begins and as it unfolds I create something really awesome with at least six or seven villains and super hero types along the way. If a speeding car goes down the street I imagine the person who stole the baby is driving that car, where are they going?
Anyway, that's the truth of it, and the fact that I can keep myself fully occupied is really a good thing because it adds to the events of what could have been a mundane Monday or a weak little Wednesday afternoon without a single breeze to carry my imagination into the stratosphere. I need the lift. I need the air! I want to fly and my brain has no limits with either how that happens or where I can end up after a few minutes of pondering. To be honest, I think I take creative license a bit far at times but whose to say if that's illegal or not; I'm the one footin' the bill on this one. I make it, or I burn it. I don't have to keep the wheels turning I can stop them at most anytime if I wanted to....but do I want to? Why would I want to? Oh, I remember...I have to pay my bills! LOL I can't always be a writer. Sometimes I have to spin straw into gold.
Anyway, that's my thing today. I thought I would answer that one burning question that you may or may not be wondering about me. Am I nutters? Nope. Just creative and fancy free. I don't have to be grounded in reality too long. I can pop off into a really great fantasy at any moment, and if I feel like I need someone to go along with me, you know I'm asking my husband and lover Naked Bearded Man to join me. Sometimes I even wonder if he'll be put that kilt on or just continue to swing it around while laughing and saying something in his deep and ever so breathtakingly sexy Gaelic; that man can bring me to my knees - - he's just so wonderfully Scottish. I mean, he's so damn Scottish the Scottish wish they could be him - - he's both rough and tumble as well as sensitive and protective. I'd love to take him more places, but without a stitch of clothes he could end up thrilling someone! He'd just bust a gut laughing if he did. There are moments I wish I could understand him, but he speaks so quickly and uses words I know aren't really even supposed to sound as if they are part of the Queen's English; rebel that one.
What about you? Can you admit you keep yourself company? Will you allow your inner speak to come out and play? I bet you could wield a pretty interesting story if you thought about it. Most can. I hope you'll not be like so many and shy from the challenge -- whenever I'm caught talking to myself I don't play it off as some do. I don't pretend to be singing under my breath, nope, I just look the asker in the eyes and continue my conversation as if I were never interrupted -- why lie? I giggle, and I move forward - - always forward. Always smiling.
No comments:
Post a Comment