Tuesday, 9 June 2015

Fractured finking.

I am glad Sigmund Freud and I never met.  Had we done so I fear I would not be here (free, that is) musing in my usual fragmented way.

Today I murdered my balloons.

What kind of comment /confession is that?  My kind.

Those long-suffering readers who saw my item on the balloon family I acquired on my birthday back in March will perhaps remember that I intended to keep the helium filled 'children and mama' as long as I could.

They were still occupying a chair this morning in various states of deterioration when I suddenly thought "this is mad, they are taking up a whole chair, the room is a mess".

With that I took my letter opener and callously ended their existence.

Now I feel guilty!

That, odd though it may be is as nothing to the fact that I 'talk' to the birds when I've been out all day and they were fed only once (early morning), instead of two or even three times.

When I eventually - after a very long time, throw out a pair of worn-out shoes I say, "sorry, you really have to go".  Then I miss them.

If the large pale ginger cat who is a regular at my restaurant, doesn't eat all his biscuits I say "sorry I shopped somewhere else and they don't sell the ones you like".

I could go on, but for the sake of  your poor nerves will refrain.

There is probably a (not very nice) name for my sort of mind but, if you know it, please keep it to yourself.

4 comments:

  1. If I were a bit older I'd say we'd been separated at birth, Ray! I'm forever talking out loud when I'm on my own and occasionally when I'm not, so you're not alone.

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    1. Sister in (no, not lunacy), eccentricityperhaps? :-)

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  2. I do the same in giving non-living things a form of being. When I throw away things I apologise!

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    1. Of course. Wouldn't want to hurt their feelings would you?

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