Sunday 11 March 2012

Talking to Myself

I’ve been feeling a bit sorry for myself. What a waste of a sunny day. I used to sing this Carpenters song at castings (when asked for a song not just for the hell of it because that would be stupid):

Now, of course, I can’t run and find the one who loves me, because He doesn’t. Funny that. Not. Especially when I look back at my blog post from September last year: Maybe MS Truth: I cain't say No

And it’s not raining or Monday today. However, I often talk to myself. And I sometimes feel old. I talk to objects and animals too. Sometimes I talk to them to disguise that I’m really talking to myself. Oh dear, perhaps I have really gone mad. Except I think I’ve always done that talking to myself/objects/animals thing.

I don’t think it’s particularly self-motivational though that can be a side effect. I was trying to describe some of my MS symptoms to a friend recently and I kept confusing the words ‘symptoms’ and ‘side effects’. Sometimes it’s hard to know which is which when you take lots of drugs. Perhaps this blog, this form of talking to myself, is a symptom of my MS. I didn’t write it before. Perhaps it’s a side effect of the condition as without MS it would have no rhyme nor reason.

Sometimes I talk to myself in public. I probably shouldn't. Sometimes I do it in public on social networking sites even though people wouldn't necessarily know. Sometimes I forget it's effectively myself I'm talking to when I retweet or comment on status update posts - a by-product of having more than one Twitter and Facebook identity. I'll try not to comment on this blog post or re-tweet the post announcing it on Twitter using one of my other Twitter identities although, of course, you are welcome to do so. Confused? Think how I feel!

Just to be clear – when Talking to Myself, I do not think of this Eminem song even though some of the lyrics might seem apt: Eminem Feat. Kobe - Talkin' 2 Myself lyrics
You’re lying to yourself, you’re slowly dying, you’re denying
Your health is declining with your self esteem, you’re crying out for help

Right enough of this – the sun is shining and I need to get out. Yesterday I watched The Artist at the cinema. It was beautiful and moving. Today I might go to see The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. Or Rubber Gloves as I’ve come to think of it. Get those marigolds on.

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