I am aware of myself. I am aware of being aware.

I question the motivations behind my actions. When I’m not satisfied with an insight I look deeper into myself to challange my thoughts. I don’t like it when I realize that I am doing things for selfish reasons. Like wearing a sexy outfit to get attention. Then I ask, “What’s wrong with a little attention? Isn’t life supposed to be fun?”

“Is that your idea of “fun”? Being all sexy for attention!?” Says my conscience in a condemning tone.

“Well… Yeah… It’s kinda fun. Looking all spicy and all.”

“Shame on you.”

“Shame on YOU for thinking ‘shame on you’ for something so natural. Do not the peacocks flaunt their feathers?”

 

I can back and forth with similar dialogues in my own mind for hours. An entire drama in my head. I guess  that’s one  way to save money on theatre.

 

 

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