Or perhaps I spent far too many hours in monologue with my stuffed polar bear, Trixie. It was her permanent silence that was the main calming influence on an otherwise hyperactive, too often troubled young mind.
I do know that my many (I should say, countless) hours of play with my Dachshund puppy were certainly worth every moment. At least she would reply in his own patented smart-aleck way, to my musings on the colour of some fleeting crush’s eyes, or the constant erraticness of the New England weather. I would at least find the company of her warmth, soft fur, and quick beating heart a remedy for the loneliness of the often solitude existence of my younger years.
But, she’s been gone for years now. Trixie’s silence continues, as she stands by my bedside. She’s now silver-grey with the passage of time, but still very much the recipient of my ritual monologues.
I have at times wished that I had saved these little one-sided talks via recorder. “Dear Trixie” could’ve been something. Not sure how I would use them today, though.
I’ve always dabbled with the idea of a podcast. I’d record a few episodes on my computer, but never did anything with them. Are they suitable for human ears?
I mean, Trixie doesn’t mind my rambling on. Some do find my voice appealing to listen to... But, for hours on end? Perhaps not. It’s far more likely I make my way with writing.
Oh, how many delight in the entertainment of my numerous forays into poetry and reflective prose. I ask my audience so many questions, and they never hesitate to answer in their own, often enchanting and elucidating ways. (This I say most sarcastically.) In any case, the attention is greatly appreciated.
I see now that my trivial pursuits of imagination and make-believe are far from for naught. They make fine material for the entertainment of so many a wandering mind.
~ Phoenix <3