Both of the kids came up with costumes that, in the right light, scared me out of my wits. My daughter was Coraline's other mother. That may not seem so scary to you, but I know just how terrified she has been by Caraline's other mother who has kind of tortured her in her imagination over the years, and trust me, her ballet flats, grey scarf and eye make-up all added up to something bone chilling.
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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