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Talking to myself

It has rained a lot today. Finally got out for a walk. Intended just to go to the shop for a pint of milk but decided to go the long way round. This has happened before – rather than the nearest block walk, I went all the way to the park even though I didn’t have my phone. So I had to think instead – like, talk to myself. And that’s good – gets things sorted.

But, as I wandered through the deserted park as it was getting dark, I realised this ‘thinking’ is actually talking to myself. Hopefully not out loud – I don’t think so – but it is a substitute for telling my parents, or my friends, all about the things I’ve done or am thinking of doing. I had a moment of true sadness – why could I not be walking with my mum and dad and sharing all this with them? I don’t believe they still know all about me wherever they are – not really. 

So, that was cheery! At least this time I remembered to get the milk on the home straight. (Well, at the local Sainsburys.)

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