talk less

that I don’t entirely understand my thoughts, until I hear or read them myself.

A strange sort of feedback loop, or resonant steam of thoughts & consciousness…

unaware of itself without resonance.

Its almost amusing: I’m a constant yap. What am I doing? regaling the World with my personal opinion & facts. What’s wrong with me? You’d think I’d do a better job of LISTENING, if I’m such a maniac with documentaries & books. No, to my horror, I chatter on. I fear that my desire to KNOW is fuelled by a desire to be known as knowing. yuck. I joke with friends that my parents should have called me “Hermione”, I’m surprised that I didn’t dislocate an arm in elementary school…

maybe ‘knowing’ has somehow been wired into me as being ‘worthwhile’? I don’t know if that’s any more, or less TRUE than any other less unappealing characteristic. But perhaps knowing this makes being a ‘yappy little know-it-all’ less repulsive.