If my roommates could hear and see what happens in my room, I'm fairly sure they'd think I'm insane. I've gotten alot better at handling being alone, but I've developed some pretty odd survival mechanisms to do so. For instance, if I'm reading a book, I will comment loudly to myself about the content. And when I watch TV, I'm prone to fits of giggling, after which I explain to the empty room why I found it so amusing/adorable/awkward.
This morning, I had a very interesting phone call. I answered it, but no one spoke. I thought I heard my mother say my aunt's name in the background, but mostly it was muffled phone-being-handled noises. And then, while I was plaintively calling "Hello...?", I heard drums and singing. Like bongos and such - very Mr. Byronesque. It was the weirdest thing. I though maybe someone was trying to send me a coded message. If they were, I hope it wasn't an emergency because I couldn't decipher it, and I went back to bed.
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3 comments:
BAHAHAHAH thats so weird...I wonder if it will ever be discovered who it was...aliens? Parents? People inside your head? I guess we'll have to see. I love commenting about things to myself. I also have conversations with people when they aren't there. Like if I am mad at someone but don't want a confrontation I will make up a scenario in my head, but catch myself actually saying these things out loud...who's crazy now?! hahahha
Anytime I've been alone (ha, I'm such a wimp), I definitely do that stuff too. Only in addition to the running book-commentary, I also read the book itself out loud, with much vigour and drama. I try to pretend I'm reading a monologue for an audition, or trying to get a fidgety 4 year old interested in books without pictures.
And that phone call is the oddest thing I've heard of this week. Maybe next time I pick up the phone and get no answer, I should stay on the line and listen for Mr. Byron's bongos.
So I wonder if telephones are like seashells, then, whereas one hears the ocean in an unoccupied seashell, an unoccupied telephone whispers of Mr.Byron's bongos? And if we further hypothesise, since seashells speak of the ocean for the reason that the ocean is their source, does this mean that all telephones find their source in Mr. Byron's classroom? Methinks we have uncovered a deep truth about the world.
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