
I talk out loud to myself all of the time. I even do so in public, sometimes. What I say seems interesting to me, but maybe it wouldn’t to others. Often I just say odd-ball random things, or repeat phrases or make odd noises. Just yesterday, my hubby came into the bedroom from his office asking who I was talking to. I just told him not to worry and that I was talking to myself and to “Go back into your office and leave me be!” And only 20 minutes ago, I was in his office with him and started to talk to myself again. He became annoyed and told me to be quiet (he was working), so I just went to my bedroom and shut the door, and began talking to myself again, happily.
Sometimes I just write and write. Whatever. Just write. The whole typing on my keyboard is pleasurable, as well. I call it “the dance and flight of my mind and fingers”. From my brain, down my neck, passed my shoulders, through my arms, then rapidly shooting out my flailing fingers…Tickity, poo, pop, flippity, phoo, phoo, tickity, tickity, bop! Racing onto the screen, like a growing slithering snake.
I feel talking is similar. If one mindfully pays attention to the feelings produced by talking, it’s like a pleasurable dance. The feel of the lips and the tongue moving. The air being pushed out and in through the mouth. The noise itself can be soothing or bring about many other sensations. That’s often why I make odd noises or repeat phrases. Noises and phrases. Phrases and noises. Phrases and noises. Ssss. Ssss. Ssssssss. That is rather ticklish, come to think about it. Melodies of the mouth. Rhythm and pops. Pianissimo, forte, largo, vivace!
I sometimes lounge on my bed, and while thinking, act out thoughts with gesticulation. Or I wave my arm(s) up, like a conductor does to make music. Feet and toes up and down, back and forth.
Many times, when I’m driving, people think I’m talking on the phone. Maybe they wonder if I’m cursing them out. And then there is the car dancing. That’s usually done to music, but it may or may not actually be playing from the radio. It could be playing solely in my head.
You’re so fine, you blow my mind
Hey Mickey, hey Mickey
Oh Mickey, you’re so fine
You’re so fine, you blow my mind
Hey Mickey, hey Mickey
Oh Mickey, you’re so fine
Hey Mickey
…
Oh Mickey, you’re so pretty, can’t you understand
It’s guys like you, Mickey
Ooh…
Have you ever seen or heard a little child doing any of the above? If so, it likely makes observers smile or laugh. Maybe I’m no longer a child, but I can still play in this world. I don’t always need others to play with.
Or sometimes what comes from my mouth…through my fingers…or through other bodily expressions…is stress, pain, or other bad feelings, figuratively vomited OUT. Has anyone ever felt sick to their stomach, but after it comes up and out, a flood of relief sets in? Ahhhhhhhhhh! Cleansed and pure.
Anyway, it all feels good.
If you like the sounds of words, may I recommend the novella titled “The Slow Regard of Silent Things” by Patrick Rothfuss? It’s an absolute favorite of mine. : )
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Thanks for the recommendation, Mark! I will look into that. Linguistics and music are passions of mine. Anything that relates to them is usually of interest to me.
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Despite the fact that I’ve danced and sang along to Mickey countless times, I didn’t actually know who sang it.
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Toni Basil was a “one time wonder”, I”m afraid.
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