A lot of people talk to themselves, and I’m one of them. Done it all my life. I can’t remember when I didn’t. Someone near would ask “Were you talking to me?” or ask me what it was I said. Usually my answer would just be that I was thinking out loud, and then they’d want to know what I was thinking about, I’d tell them it was none of their business, and that would sometimes escalate from there.
I also blither, it’s one of my forms of humor, telling myself jokes and of course, laughing at crap that no one else could possibly understand. Partly because my blither is really deep blither, it springs from my fevered little brain connecting things that would be better left separate, seeing the humor in the conjunction and then out spews the incomprehensible blither. Many years of living alone has made me highly skilled at this.
In fact, that’s exactly what this is.
It’s the end of the day and I haven’t posted anything yet, it’s just been too damn hot. 106 F. today. Too much. Goodnight.