Journal log entry – The art of writing … oh well, forget about that. You know what they say about people who talk to themselves. Well here is the art … or rather … the beauty of writing. The beautiful thing about writing is that you can lock yourself up in a room … or even better … not … and write and write, which is kind of like talking to yourself quietly … and … no one thinks less of you. They might even admire you for it. Gather that. Wow, how a perception changes because you’re writing. You can ramble on and on, backtrack, and reread what you wrote (I’m doing it now.), which would be like saying the same thing over and over (not that I haven’t done that myself, especially when the computer is wigging out on me. Note: It’s good to give a reason.). Of course if you had walked in on me while I was spewing all this, you’d have quickly retraced your steps back out, and perhaps stood outside, called the cops, and warned all others not to enter.

But erase that now, walk in on me as I’m writing my ramble … okay? … a whole different picture. Right? You might even ask me what I’m writing about, which … well … might actually mean you question my sanity and are trying to get me to talk to someone other than myself.

“But I am talking to someone else! I’m talking to you!”

“Right, right,” you’re saying (or am I saying it?), “now he’s suffering from multiple-personalities disorder.”

“Not true!” I tell myself.

 You know what? This sends me out on a tangent. Bear with me.

A lot of mental institutions were closed in the past … and so … we find many more nuts in our midst, present company excluded.

“Hey, hey … doesn’t matter if I’m sitting here by myself … okay?”

So anyway, there are quite a few pecans roaming about … and honestly … there’s not much we can do about it. But to make people feel less uncomfortable about it and equally as well help these screws appear tighter than they are, all you philanthropists take note, we should give each and every one of them an earpiece like one of those new technical phones … and they wouldn’t be expensive, not because we’d buy them in bulk, but because they wouldn’t have to work. That would be beside the point. It could be a bottle cap if it looks the part. It’s all about the illusion. Are you following? (This is like one of those subconsciously suggestive commercials telling you to click the follow button on my blog).

Listen, when I’m walking in the supermarket and I see someone talking to themselves, my shoulders right away go up an inch, but then when I see that they are actually talking into one of these phones, my shoulders drop a half inch. Okay, not all the way of course, I mean I still find something very peculiar about it, and anti-social when you’re in your own world, surrounded by other people … and on top of that, come to think of it … I question the person who doesn’t realize that the first impression anyone has of him or her, when they are using one of those things, is that they’re a nut talking to themself.

But … and I say but … you see the earpiece works. My shoulder didn’t go all the way back down, but it did a bit. That’s improvement. That’s what we’re striving for. That’s what we need to do. That’s what we … we…

Oh … um … this is awkward … suddenly I’ve become quite aware that “I” am … “we.” Okay, so I guess I am a tad bit crazy … but, but you’ll never know. No, you’ll never know … because I’m writing. Ha, ha, I’m writing. Ha, ha, ha… You’ll never know!

Signing off (putting my name to it might be the same thing),

Roger and out (But not completely)