I got a comment on Facebook a few weeks ago suggesting that talking to me was like 'talking to a brick wall.' And I guess that's true much of the time. Other people have commented that I don't participate well in group conversations.
I just don't have a lot to say. The dropoff in frequency of posts here reflects that.
I think that, if anything, I talk too much. Sometimes, at the end of the day, as I look back over what the day has been like, I find myself asking, 'Why did I say that? That was unnecessary.' Or snarky. Or unfair. Or demeaning.
I spent about seven hours Memorial Day hanging out with the former Flibbertigibbet. There were long stretches of time (or at least they seemed long) where neither of us said anything. That is as it should be. I like not feeling compelled to fill every second of airtime with noise, like I'm a Top 40 radio station or something.
Silence really is golden.
2 comments:
I've spoken to brick walls and you are no brick wall, MCARP.
While I'm speaking to brick walls, I did not have sex with that woman, Nikki Haley.
I'm simply in seclusion due to wounds I received while fighting with Andy Jackson at the Battle of New Orleans. er.. uh .. "during" New Orleans... uh ... we were kung fu fighting ... the wu tang klan was there ...
somehow, pop reference humor seems to have lost its appeal since Mr. Miller went over to the dark side, so I'm going to go watch Bill Maher have oral sex with Ann Coulter.
Why, yes, I just took a Percoset, why do you ask?
blogblah
Silence is golden and oh so sweet.
FlibbtiNinaChristina
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