What is a #totalrunningmonologue?

You know when you talk to yourself via your internal monologue, often when there’s no one else to talk to or you’re bored? No? Oh. Well, I, as an only child, got into the habit of being different characters in my head. I used to pretend that I was in a TV show, the one playing out in my head.

I guess I was bound to be attracted to both writing and acting, judging by that experience. The thing about having both an overactive imagination and a voice in one’s head is that one begins to get used to all the talking that goes on, and all the contemplation that happens at the same time.

As someone once said:

“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.”

So it is.

All that said, a total, running monologue (or #totalrunningmonologue as I tweet it; have a go once day yourself, it might be fun!) is when my internal monologue decides to narrate my day, whilst another ‘side’ of it likes to make biased comments on what I am doing and what I am thinking about. I say a lot of strange things within my head, only some of which are able to bleed through onto paper and speech. For instance, I managed to say that Oxford University graduates are the “best kinds of mortals”. Goodness knows where that turn of phrase came from!

It can be very spontaneous, random, or it can come up as a whole set of dialogue or personal conversation (that is, a conversation with all the parts of my personality within my mind fighting) that I may well use later. In fact, on the electronic notepad on my phone, I have a collection of my ‘sayings’ that I’ve never said out loud. And on that note, I’ll leave you with a poignant one:

“I write to mend my broken heart. Some time ago, I lost the pieces, and I’m still searching for them in the pages of now.”