Tuesday 10 February 2009

We talk to ourselves in public

I do, do you? I talk to myself much as I talk to a lover or sister or close friend, about the issues of the day. I've always done it, since earliest childhood. I had my first imaginary friend at 2, her name was Ebony and she was black. In fact, I think she was the only black girl in all of Ireland at the time, imaginary or not. I had various imaginary and living human friends throughout my childhood at different times. But through the whole time, and still, I have always talked to myself. I would be talking to myself now if I wasn't writing this. Though I often talk to myself while I am writing. I break off to talk to myself. It is something very deep in me. Like a cup of tea. Deeper. It is an intimacy, a confidence, a trust, a fun thing. I tell myself jokes and jive, and I think over Difficult Subjects, and I consider out loud the ideas and inspirations that come. And when I get a song in the middle of the night, like I did last night, I sing it out loud.

I am aware that I am probably viewed very differently to an older person, when I walk along the street, yapping away. I suppose there is nothing to be done about that, except to enjoy it while I'm young. I love the fact that I don't really care about how I am perceived, though sometimes it feels like a kind of intrusion.

Do you do this too? Does any of this sound familiar to you? I would LOVE to hear from you. I mean, it's not something that would be meaningful really in itself, to have a roomful of people who talk to themselves out loud in public and private and anywhere they feel like it, because we'd most likely get on with talking to each other. But you know, there would be a kind of kinship.

5 comments:

  1. Squirrels' bollocks, Lucy, but I have been yammering to myself for years and years. Is it on account of my being an only monkey? Dunno. But I will ponder, 'cause that's what I do.

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  2. Oh, and my first imaginary friend lived on the eastern side of the Berlin Wall. Actually, she and I were related. She was my sister: my twin, in fact.

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  3. Ok, so so far it's you and me, Sheila. No massive surprises there. But it's early days yet. They will come.

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  4. I'm quite the opposite, I'm afraid. My internal dialog, though constant, is just that, internal. I've worked and lived with folks who spoke to themselves constantly. It was always a bit difficult for me to leave the room, our conversation continuing behind me.

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  5. Wow, I've never experienced that. That does strike me as odd. A conversation continuing in the room behind you? I mean, when I talk to myself, it's not so much that I 'play' different parts, it's more of a monologue, and asking questions can happen in that, it's not sealed off, but I'm not trying to play somebody else who would reply to me. Nor do I speak to myself constantly. Just spontaneously, and you know, whenever.

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