Conversations with myself - part 1

“What’s wrong”, I ask myself.

“I’m not quite sure” I answer. “There’s this pent up raw mass of emotional impedimenta just waiting to get out”.

“Oh, is that it?” I say, “why didn’t you say so? And why couldn’t you use simpler words? Seriously, raw mass of emotional impedimenta? Why couldn’t you just say I feel kinda fucked up? That explains the situation just as well”.

“Well,” I reply, having thought about it for while, “it just sounds more potent, put like that y’know? It makes me sound deep”.

“Makes you sound like a proper twat it does” I say, sneeringly.

“Fine fine, I admit it. I do tent to overuse the language a bit. But sometimes when what I need to say has to be veiled so that the people they’re intended for don’t get it, it has to be done”.

“Hmmm. I get what you mean. But when you talk to me, I would appreciate you ditching the flowery language – just say it like it is, no need to gift wrap it”.

I smile.

I Return the smile.

“Anyway, so that’s how it is. Do you think it’ll get better anytime soon?”

“I dunno”, I reply. “But here’s the thing, as long as you continue to be this self absorbed you wont be doing anyone any good”.

“I know. And I’m going to drag myself out of this. Soon. I have to.”

“You will.” I say, understanding full well what I’m talking about. “Sometimes you need to be a little self indulgent and wallow. It’s all part of the process.”

“It just sucks, y’know.”

“I know.”

I sit back, feeling slightly better for the conversation, the company and the realization that no matter what, I can always count on myself to dig me out of whatever hole I’m in.