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Yesss.. my first attempt.. or rather.. venture.. no.. theres a nice word for it, well.. wtvr, my first timeexpressing thoughts in written words and making them public (in short, blogging).Topic for todays post would be, yeah, bout me talking to myself too much. ive just noticed this growing new trait. Well almost 90% of the stuff ima write is based on the things ive said to myslef during the course of the day....Perhaps its a side effect of being alone in a cold metropolitian city like Melbourne. No i dont talk like aloud!its more of an internal monologue or sumtin. First noticed it while playing basketball, but its a thinking sport, so it isnt too bad see.. coz like it just talk to myself bout what i did, what i coulda do, what i didnt do, and about that hot chick that just walked pass the court, and her nice behind, and how that made me loose a possesion etc etc.Then after basketball i headed home but detoured for dinner. Talked to myself all the way to Chilli's Cafe. Lets see if i can remember what i said to myself... nope cant rememeber, was just random stuff. Prolly just lamenting the fact that imwalking alone and having dinner alone, or that its farking cold and the wind is blowing and im in shorts and a very wellventilated balling jersey. OR the fact that im struggling to walk up the slightly inclined Russell's Street (Tashna complains bout that too)*sigh* how unfit i am!! blame dota. More internal monologues when i got home. Took a shower, talked to myself!! (prolly bout how nice my body looks like but ANYWAYZ!!) Then i started unpacking my bags. Yes! one week after i moved into my new placeim starting to unpack, my room was in a hellish mess! clothes everywhere, luggages in the middle of the room etc. started talking to myself again. Bout which kinda clothes and where do i put them. Like for example "hmm...these are all the pants and jeans that i have, the ones i wont be using too muchwil be placed at the bottom of the stack!! these are my regular clothes pile!! these are the pile of clothes i'll NEVER WEAR!This pile of clothes are the ones that make me look gay.. and the one beside them are the clothes i'll only wear at home ...aaaaand this is the wool blanket my mum stole from china airlines". Then i looked into the mirror and... "hmmm arent these the pair of shorts that has like a huge hole at the bottom??" so i stripped them off and dumped it in the pile of clothes that make me look gay. Well with my sleeping position,my legs point towards the room door. If Christina would to so happen open the door in the morning with me in that pair of short... she would be in for a HUGE surprise... note the word HUGE here is rather to describe the scale of the surprise, not the measurement of the object that would have caused the surprise..or .... WHATEVER!!!! (and yess, i told myself the exact same line) So my room now is, cleared, no longer in a hellish mess.. its actually in a rather...orderly mess... and i lay down on my bed, and i reflected..... and it came to mind that... for every second i spend alone, i talk to myself....oooo mannn.. is this normal?? or am i screwed.....
WilZC at 6:37 AM | |
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