Wednesday, December 10, 2003

I adopt other people's speech mannerisms. Inflections, accents, all of it--I make it my own. Around Jeff I hesitate, around Cindy I have to fight not to tack "ified" at the end of everything.

Driving across the country, from the south through the midwest, I discovered hiding in my throat a most pronounced southern accent, one that took days to get rid of once I reached the Pacific northwest.

It is only when talking to myself that I find I am completely rid of any regional flavor, any stuttering tics, anyone else. When talking to myself I find myself to be fluid and articulate, stunningly witty, and fabulous.

I'm beginning to believe I should talk to others less and myself more.

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