Stop talking while I make love to you

Yeah, I said it… some people just need to keep quiet…really.

My brother, for one. He obviously didn’t read that bit in the Desiderata about the peace there is to be had in silence….the boy can chirp away for ever…but I forgive him, he’s 9. It’s adults that just grind my gears entertain me to no end.

Like the guy who walked up to me at the bus stop and proceeded to involve me in a wondrously beautiful conversation that consisted of one party…the other was reading Turgenev’s ‘Fathers and Sons’. Yes, it is a nice book, and no, I’m not trying to impress you with that party’s literary accomplishments. He he he… That was supremely edifying… should put it down as one of those ‘Day to remember’ composition candidates (for when I’m bereft of ideas….Yes, it happens to the best of us *slaps forehead as she realises her modesty has disappeared….again…*) I seem to attract such interesting guys…price I pay for having a pure, innocent face.

Aii, stop waiting for the blog title to meet the blog (I mean if ‘When rubber meets the road’ could be a Firestone slogan, humour me…); it’s not always like that. Sometimes the title has got everything to do with nothing. Did I say that right? Yes, I did. And you might as well check out Mr Ernest Bazanye’s blog while I’m still saying things right. Right fun, it is 🙂

Said brother is my only ‘real’ brother… The rest are…fake chosen (along the lines of the knights that did all of the awesome deeds we attach to King Arthur…) just so it’s clear. You might hear about him (T) from time to time; might as well introduce him. T minus 10 seconds….

This wonderful blogger makes a case against those people who feel the need to scream at the top of their lungs (cue this song)

in one of his earlier blog entries. His moralistic tone aside (let he that has no sin, [ahem what am I doing blogging during ‘church time’?], cast the first stone……I’m saving mine 🙂 ), he goes against all the wonderful things Ms Eve Ensler taught me about (see vday.org for more info) moaning and being noisy when umm, being intimate.

Now you’ve probably had one of those moments… You know the ones. The person who, just as you were enjoying the sunset, feels the need to speak on its wondrousness. Now, really, you don’t say…no other reason for me to have been enjoying it, now is there? Jeez, I don’t know…maybe because it’s wondrous? I’m just saying… Or the lover who just wants to talk when you’d rather be quiet. He he, stop being coy, you. I’ve had experiences like those in London, England; Kampala, Uganda & Nairobi, Kenya (the talking when I couldn’t be bothered, not the lovers…on the celebration of my chasteness)-goes to prove that being in a capital city doesn’t guarantee a capital experience. He he…

There is peace to be had in silence, joy to be found in solitude…but the world we live in is so full of the noise that we have taught ourselves to seek (admit it, you just refreshed your inbox (e-mail or Facebook), Twitter page, Al Jazeera/BBC World/CNN page..) that we feel odd, not sharing each and every one of our thoughts with our friends/followers. Not taking a photo of this and that and immortalising it on Flickr. Not letting the world know that yes, the person you just saw on this street/that road is, indeed, me.

Try a little silence

[on the occasion of the end of my iPod-free week]

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Stop talking while I make love to you

  1. acolyte says:

    A very pithy post, I have been there many many times. Ranging from the person sitting next to you who won’t let you enjoy the football game in peace and vomits all their knowledge about the team on you to the significant other who feels the need to prattle on and on and on about “us”.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s