I like to talk

I like to talk, I really do. That is a simple statement – one of which I have made many times before. I don’t enjoy ranting but rather rambling: not complaining nor exhausting those whom I speak to and I want them to know that. That I do not talk because I am bursting with some sort of anxiety, though at times that may be true, but for the most part I talk because my brain has become so cluttered with ideas that the only way to vacuum is by spitting them out. I like to share, I like people to know what I am thinking, I often think aloud. Often I talk so that you can follow my train of thoght because I don’t want to leave you on the tracks and I would hate it if you got off on the wrong stop. Silence, well, silence sucks. It’s so loud in the quiet as thoughts scream to fill the void. Silence is the man waiting for the train with his feet on the bumpy yellow ground that warns you not to stand to close. My mouth is the train that knocks that neck-out man into the hole. My tongue dances to the music that is my voice and sometimes people prefer different genres, what would you like? Should I slow down the tempo? Ponder on the next words to flow out, maybe even pause for a second or two...?

Should I BELT USING ALL MY MIGHT TO SHARE MY IDEAS?

Should I whisper?

No matter what your answer is, I am going to sing my song.