Sometimes I Wish...

I could shut myself up.

I talk to myself more than I talk to anyone else. They say you're not crazy as long as you don't respond. And I don't. So through a rather vague technicality I can consider myself sane. While I beg to differ, I won't argue with conventional standards.

I'm my own worst critic when it comes to a lot of things. Actually, make that everything. Which is fine. Really. Except when you can't get away from yourself. I can never really shut myself up. If I'm planning on doing something potentially idiotic, the id part of me will be like, "YEAH! GO FOR IT!" while the poor superego has to internalize all of this. It wins most of the time, and prevents me from getting horrendously wasted or going streaking or committing mass homicides (see TheList).

But sometimes, when all of the warring factions in my head start going at each other, I really want them to shut. the. fuck. up. It also makes me wonder which part of my psyche I'm really thinking with. Is it raw, pleasure-principled id? I always thought of myself as pleasure-driven. Why do something I don't want to do? Makes perfect sense to me - I'm an Eros-driven kinda chick.

Even with that. I still want to be quiet. I can't even get away from myself when I'm sleeping. All of my dreams have that characteristically-Jenny sound. All of the things I fear, hate, love, desire - are all in there with equally-realistic and bothersome commentary. I can deal without your quips, Subconscious. Thanks.

My friend, TG, linked me to a book online that reads a lot like Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide. It must be the British humor that attracts me. I think that if I could spice up my inner monologue, I'd give it a British accent. Then, all my sub/semi conscious replies to myself can have that witty, dry, fabulous tone. Maybe then I'd like listening to myself more often.