Sometimes I just say words. Or write them. Whatever.
Sometimes it's like a baby talking. A whole lot of nonsense, but it makes people smile.
Sometimes it is very important. The keys to the kingdom of heaven, even.
And sometimes I just like to hear the noise I make to entertain myself.
I love coming on Gather. It's like writing alone in my room, only somebody else might read whatever it is that I've written before the next ten years.
It's like fishing. You never know what you are going to pull out of the lake. Or what's going to fall in.
I might be teaching somebody something they really need to know. Or I might be teaching them something totally useless that they will never have a need of. Or I might be learning either of these two things from them.
At the very least, I'll discover what normal (?) people actually think. Also, the not-so-normal.
Peculiar, wonderful, wacky people will jump right in there with the so-ordinary-until-they-are-almost-boring, people.
Right when I think Joe Boring is the blandest being alive, (Pardon me if your name is Joe or Boring. He/she does not really exist as far as I know.) then I wll run across something by Wilda Wacky (Again, forgive me if you are Wilda or Wacky.) and I will appreciate Joe a whole lot more.
Or one day I will be Ms-The-Most-Obnoxious-Person-On-The-Planet and Mr. and Mrs. Get-A-Clue will hold up a mirror. Thanks. I won't appreciate it at the time. I may even call you something that starts with a blankety-blank-blank! But I will appreciate it in time. Especially as it will keep my children from lecturing me. (And they say I lecture them!)
Then, another time, I may feel like the lowest scum/worm alive. And some sweet, kind soul will actually be conned into thinking maybe I'm not. They might even tell me that–if you can believe it! Then I'll think, Hmmm, maybe I'm not so bad. I did feed the dog this week. I let somebody get a word in edgewise once. I raised children to adulthood and they survived the journey. So far. I might even think about cooking for my husband…maybe I won't make him wash the dishes afterwards…nah! I don't want to get crazy with this goodness thing!
But seriously, (I know you thought I was serious up till now, but no. I didn't feed the dog this week. My husband did.) I do love to come on Gather. I can communicate. And communicate. And communicate. And nobody rolls over and looks at me and says, "Huh?" only to fall back to sleep without waiting for my reply.