Do you ever talk to yourself out loud? You know, like when you’re completely pissed off for no particular reason that you can put your finger on, and you wander around the house muttering to yourself. Or worse – walking in the street muttering to yourself. Fuckin bastard. I’ll find out where you live and I’ll pour a nest of ants through your letterbox.
I do that kind of thing.
I could be in the middle of a crowd, strolling along having an entire conversation with myself. Both sides.
Hmmm. I can see your point, but on the other hand –
Stop finishing my fucking –
Yes! It’s really –
I know. Irritating.
People nudge each other with their elbows and frown in my direction, nodding.
Sometimes, I find myself re-enacting entire conversations I’ve had with someone, except this time, I get all the best bits. Witty devastating one-liners like Fuck you, you fat prick!!
I even laugh out loud and sing snatches of music-hall standards, or maybe a bit of Gilbert and Sullivan. I am the very model of a modern major-general. It’s less common, I find, to unconsciously cover the White Stripes, though lately I notice I’ve been singing ’bout my doorbell, when ya gonna ring it, when ya gonna ring it? I rarely find myself mouthing Slayer songs, but that’s mainly because I don’t know any and I’ve never actually heard Slayer.
I suppose it must be evidence of passive-aggressive behaviour, or something. Maybe I take shit from people and then go off and rework history so that I look like the hero. That would work all right, and it would make a lot of sense except that it isn’t true. If people hassle me, I tend to tell them to fuck off. Hmmm. What could it be then? I worry about the day when I find myself making loud animal noises at a meeting.
I don’t know. Is this normal?