The Flow of Conversation

Right now, I am reading Wicked, the blasphemous book that supposedly ruins "The Wizard of Oz". Now that I have finished the...interesting.... first section (those of you who have read it know well of what I am alluding to), I am starting to enjoy the story. It is a well thought out interpretation of Oz. Little snippets pop up here and there that are quite deep. Mostly I would pass over them with little thought or the occasional, "hmmm, that's nice" or, "hmmm, hadn't thought of that." Then I ran into one sentence that perfectly explains one of the things that I have been trying to explain about myself for years. The sentence goes like this:
"Galinda didn't often stop to consider whether she believed in what she said or not; the whole point of conversation was the flow."
In an earlier post I had said that I would come up with ideas as I was speaking or writing, that was not entirely true. I have to be speaking with someone or chatting with someone online for the ideas to flow. Peculiar. I have always tried to figure out why this anomaly occurred. This sentence seems to have answered that, sure I come up with ideas, but they are ideas that I had never thought about within myself, much less figured out if I believed them.
For example; one day I was talking with, for the sake of ambiguity, Bobette (a girl). We were talking about the Trinity and souls and minds and all that good stuff after she read the bit in Chapter One about listening to the mind. Writing that bit, I had made it seem as if the mind and self were two separate entities. While explaining this to Bobette, I started spouting stuff about the human body, soul, and mind being separate and coinciding with the Holy Trinity; the soul is like the Holy Spirit, the Body in like the Son, and the Mind is like the Father. Then, on a whim and with no forethought, said that this was so because God made Man in his image, thus with three separate parts. I talked to someone later about this and gave up the notion for a reason that at the time was a good one but I can't for the life of me remember what the heck it was. The point is, however, that entire idea was formed as I talked. Why? Looking back, I wanted to keep the flow of the conversation intact. The train was to stay on track and endure to its destination.

Have you ever started a conversation with one subject and ended with a subject completely unrelated, then, just for kicks, followed your conversation backwards to see the progression? I have, and some of the things that can be associated with each other are pretty wild. It all has to do with Flow. One subject leads to another leads to another leads to another. No one wants to stay on one subject if a new one has already been started. Flow, it makes you think of previously un-conceived notions and relate completely unrelated subjects.
Yet, in my opinion, flow is a purely aesthetic facet of conversation. It is merely something that is pleasing to the ear. Ideas and Expressions can live on without it, yet have an easier time coming across with it.the nursery rhyme "Hey Diddle Diddle" is an apt example.

The dish ran away with the spoon
The little dog laughed to see such fun
The Cat and the Fiddle
The Cow jumped over the moon
Hey Diddle Diddle

Here, you see that all of the images in the rhyme are there, yet, it doesn't seem right. It's a mish-mosh of unrelated images. But when put back into normal order;

Hey diddle diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon,
The little dog laughed to see such fun,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.

The rhyme seems to make sense, all of the images are in some way associated with each other. The Flow makes all the difference. The rhyming and the syllables change the flow into a murmuring brook instead of a stagnant puddle getting churned by every car that happens to pass through it.
Even this blog post has surprised me with its flow. I started from a sentence in a book and ended with some nursery rhyme. I had not planned any of this beforehand, it just seemed to fit together. Now that I have typed all this, I'm not quite sure if I believe it myself. I think I do, but that's just because I came up with it in accordance to the flow of the piece.I guess I'll ruminate on it without the flow messing with me to see if any of this actually makes the least bit of sense. Until Next time;
Ai W. Ell

Chapter One

>-----And with this kis- Brahhhhh! Brahhhh!! Brahhhh!!!!!"That's IT!!" I started, the shouted thought reverberating in the empty corridors of my mind, causing such a roar in my half-drunken-with-sleep soul that I forgot for a moment entirely what my mind was yelling at. Then I resumed, "Today is the day that i will rid myself of that blasted alarm clock!" I got up, shut off the blaring siren, put on my pants, and left the noise demon on its ledge above my pillow. I didn't really want to dispose of it, I liked it and it like me. We have an understanding; it would ensure that I hadn't died in the night and I wouldn't obliterate it once I had once again been shattered to consciousness.
>-----I left my annoying friend in my room as I groggily ambled my beaten path to the loo room. I saw myself in the mirror. "I ought to shave my head completely." Reality was slowly sifting back into my mind like rays of light in a shady grove, crowding it to make it slight less cavernous. I picked at a piece of short, curly brown hair that for all the world looked like the well-used and spilled upon rug on the floor of some hippie's van. The likeness reinforced by the shimmering oil and not-so-shimmering grime build-up that results in a two-day absence of bathing. "Next on the list."
>-----I took off my pants and underwear and stepped (crouched) into my human (bug)-sized shower. I had already turned the knob before I realized my deadly mistake, I had given the plumbing no chance to heat up after another below-freezing night. I stood in frigid anguish as I thought of recent temperatures. "Ahhh, a reason for me to keep this bush on my head." It's not that I hate cold weather, it keeps creatures that I don't particularly like in their dens- but why does it have to be so-HOT. I forgot to balance the knobs and the plumbing had heated up. My thoughts, derailed, resumed. "Why can't there be a season in which unfriendly critters stay away so that I can enjoy a nice stroll through the woods without fear of ambush?" Critters are actually smarter than they let on. Since I know this they know I know this, someday they are going to ambush me.
>-----I knew what the sensation was before I felt it. I had been so caught up in ambush that I had all but forgotten.... that I HAD forgotten to shut my eyes while shampooing my hippie carpet. Now suds had found my weakness and were attacking with everything they had. I imagined my epic battle with them being told for many generations, "Take that Villain!!" as i held my eyes open to the streaming water. That's another thing, why can't they make a decent soap that doesn't try to murder you? "Can't have your cake and eat it too," I muttered. Peculiar. How had that singular statement come into existence? Did people just try things and then format the results of their findings in catchy saying? If so, how had this particular cake expert failed? How did he make a cake and then fail to- "Shut it." My mind,"Too many thoughts, I don't want any more for awhile." My mind is a jerk and won't leave me be unless I grant its every whim, so I stopped thinking. I tried to survive the rest of my cleaning without the companionship of my mind. People would argue that I shouldn't let my mind boss me around, but I disagree. It is in such tenuous bonds as these that the best method to obtain maximum efficiency is to let it be and rest so that once needed, it comes "amicably" without being pre-strained.
>-----The cleaning complete, I found new clothes to done and ended up in front of the mirror again. I tasted the previous day in my mouth. The food I had eaten had settled quite comfortably in my buds and now defiled my favorite sense. I reached for my toothbrush, a very close friend, and thinking on the events of the day before, I remembered an event that filled my heart with much gladness. "Today my friend," to the toothbrush, "is a glorious day indeed. Today i am privileged with the opening of a new tube of toothpaste!" My friend smiled back in unmoving reflection of my joy.

I'm gonna make this up as I type, that generally works...

Hey there! I generally don't have any deep thoughts unless I am already talking about them. Confused? I guess I should say that I tend to have these deep and intellectual thoughts as I talk or type. Strange huh? I am usually at my thinkiest while talking, while I'm in the shower, or right before I lose consciousness at night. Yet, catch me in the middle of the day and...nothing. poof, all thoughts are either leading to food or sleep, or Gustav, my unicycle. Now that I think about it, I can also think between 12 am and 3 am. Later if I can stay in the state of the "waking sleep". I wrote Chapter one to my story between 1 am and 2 am after a lengthy shower. Pretty neat if you ask me, but ever so annoying if you happen to like sleep.

Hey there people who actually spend time reading blogs

Hey ya'll (excuse my verbal defecation for using such a word, but there aren't many choices to address a plural number of people in second person), this is Ai. Full name : Ai Wrotonov Ell. I am currently writing a story titled the Toothed-Paste Man and I am going to use this unused blog to post my random ideas when I want that will hopefully aid my writing. I hope you will find enjoyment in reading them as I found enjoyment in writing them. Or not, the choice is yours. Chapter one is finished and i hope to continue writing soon.