We are so hemmed in at the moment by all of the stuff we, knowingly/willingly or not, surround ourselves with. I'm getting so weary, swimming underwater like this. The stuff is blocking my way. The time has come to uncover the floor and the corners. It is time to make room for the light to pour in. I've got to be tired and cranky for a little while longer as I make my way to the surface.
We talk to ourselves everyday, all day (and night) for the whole of our lives. We started talking to ourselves before we knew we were a self, we forget what we said because we forget everything from before...when we were too young and busy developing our brain to remember those early years. There is still lingering residue of long forgotten conversations I have had with myself as a toddler sitting around in the crevices...sloughing off occasionally into words I tell myself still. We talk non-stop, and not just with dialogue. Our goosebumps communicate to us, our tingly feelings, our neurons, our peripheal vision. They are all submitting data into our self and expecting us to react, respond or all to often, expecting what they are sending us will be ignored. After all that talking, you'd think we'd know what we think about most things, but occasionally we are stumped. Unless we stop what we are doing and really concentrate sometimes that voice(s) ...
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