Verbal Diarrhea in a Hot Bath

Warning: High Blathering Content

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I thought I’d try something a little different…

…I thought… I’d try something a little different…

I find myself in my bathroom, in the bath, in the hot hot bath, rexona bath salts dissolved in the water, making it slippery, and the book that I’ve been reading is discarded now. And rather than trying to write in a notebook, I thought I’d record but it seems very, very strange to actually have a voice spoken… I’m so used to hearing my voice inside my head and somehow that voice has more validity than the voice that I’m hearing now, the voice that’s echoing around the bathroom walls.

Somehow the voice inside my head is more familiar than the voice I’m hearing now. And somehow it feels as though I’m intruding, or… as though I’m doing something that, perhaps I shouldn’t be ashamed of, but somehow is going to… impose on other people, and I can’t really explain where that feeling comes from. This isn’t a home that’s used to voices I suppose. It’s used to the bark of the television, used to music being played, and its’ used to me talking silly conversations with the cats, but it’s not actually used to any sort of conversation or stream or thought, just like I’m not really used to trying to voice things. Thoughts are much easier if they’re about inside my head rather than actually trying to compose them and express them vocally. And for some reason this is more difficult than me actually sitting down and putting my thoughts down on a keyboard as well.

I was going to lie here and describe the white and, I don’t know what you’d this green, it’s a pastel colour, a "duck egg blue" perhaps, and try to talk about the cobwebs in the corner and the black house spider that lives above my shower that comes out when the steam rises from my shower in the morning, and the cracks that’s developed along the edge of the walls from the house settling due to the drought…

I was sitting down during my lunch break the other day thinking that I wanted to write something that seemed a little more positive, that focused on the positive, and I was going to focus on the good things that I’ve received from the men that I’ve been lucky enough to know in my life, and it was a great idea until it led back to my father, and for some bizarre reason I wasn’t able to tie anything positive directly to him and I find that quite sad, so I have my list because I am grateful for the people that I’ve known. which I will put up in a day or so

And I was going to try to keep the tape recorder next to my bed so maybe I could jot down ideas of dreams that I have because I’m not very good at writing them down, but then again I’m not sure that I’m going to be comfortable with my voice breaking into the dark. This at least I have sound of the water dribbling into the bath tub to break it all a little bit so it doesn’t sound quite so imposing. Still it’s not easy, it’s much harder than I thought it was going to be…

I guess I’m feeling better than I was last week. It’s not so much that I’m feeling happy, just that I’m feeling less sad. It’s… I’m reading a book at the moment, it’s a book by Jeanette Winterson, and it’s… it’s a book about love, which the books of hers that I’ve read so far tend to be about love, or passion, and Passion is a book that, if you ever want to read a beautiful story, I’d recommend. But it talks about living your life. And I know that it’s a cliché that it’s not a dress rehearsal, that you only get one chance at it, and I know it’s something I’ve said before about wanting to live my life bravely, but I’ve found that it’s something that people around me are raising. That it’s not something that I’m prompting, but M, one of the women I work with, who sits next to me, she asked me about whether I was disappointed or whether life was what I expected, and we had a conversation about what she’d hoped for in her life and it’s amazing the people that you can work with and you have no idea about them. And she was quite amazing. She finished high school at 14 and missed out on getting into medicine by 4 marks, and the disappointment, because she so wanted to be a surgeon, caused a spiralling, into a bit of a depression, but she ended up falling into art and studying design instead, and still managed to finishz her degree by the time she was 19. It seems that I’m surrounded by very talented people, very intelligent people, people that remind me, I suppose, of how ordinary I am and, I don’t know, maybe there’s something in it, even if these very special people are having trouble finding their way, finding satisfying lives, then maybe it’s not so unusual and maybe I’m just going through what everyone goes through and bleh bleh bleh because it’s me it seems more important…

Maybe there’s a project in there for me: who would I be if I could be anyone I wanted to be, what would I do, what would my life be.

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Who would you be?