nunoncastors

Strictly speaking, I talk to myself. Viewed from a more forgiving perspective, I habitually anthropomorphise the world around me and that’s why I sometimes shout at the weather and have conversations with my car.

There is definitely nothing wrong with this sort of behaviour.

Obviously I’m not saying that the conversations aren’t somewhat one-sided, they undoubtedly are, but I have them all the same. Usually it’s with the weather. For some reason she’s taken exception to me and persists in pelting me with rain, winds and freezing temperatures. I, in turn, accuse her of being a moody bitch and demand she fuck off while I’m toiling uphill into a headwind on my bike. Though, sometimes we do get on and she tends to spoil me with a starry sky or a glorious sunset. It’s a love-hate thing.

Then there’s trees. They’re not big conversationalists and have a habit of being cliquey and whispering to each other behind your back. But some of them are cool and can be relied upon to let you sit on their shoulders for a quiet afternoon of reading. It never hurts to say thanks to the big fellas for all that sweet O2 either.

You’re raising an eyebrow at me aren’t you?