Ramblers

I am a rambler. If I get nervous, I ramble. If there is a long, awkward pause, I ramble. If I’m excited, I ramble. Therefore, many times a week, or month, and definitely within a year, I find myself rambling.

The problem with rambling is that you always say the wrong things. Always.

In fact, I’ll just say I’m not witty, or clever, or funny, or charming, ever, when I ramble.

This is a quality that I highly dislike about myself. In my head, I imagine saying the right thing at the right moment, but in reality, I probably just said the opposite of everything I was thinking, and instead of the something decent, I just said something off the wall. It was probably awkward, or random, or who knows.

Man. Can’t there be an invention to save me from the humiliation of my rambling mouth? Something that, right at the moment I begin to talk, will literally make the words disappear as they come flying out?

I think I’d be better off if I were a mute with a pencil and a notepad. Because what’s weird is that I always seem to say what I want when I write: I never blur the lines, I never get too far off track, I try my best to say what I mean.

Does this happen to you? Cute boy approaches. you're giving a presentation, you're trying to explain a feeling, a thought... and you become a rambling idiot? Goodbye English degree and supposedly learned ways of communication…goodbye; I’ll see you in five minutes as I’m walking away, staring blankly ahead, replaying all of the things I “should have said” as I remember the things I did say.

There’s no cure for rambling. None. This is who I am. A rambler. I take it with a grain of sugar (who wants a grain of salt in an open wound…not I). Maybe a cube of sugar…

I’ve gotten better at just letting the pauses go, though. I’ve also gotten better when I’m excited…but the nervous one still gets me. It’s like, my heart beats faster…which pumps more blood…which carries more oxygen…which produces more carbon dioxide…and as the carbon dioxide is being exhaled it gets tangled with all of these words that are stuck in my throat (for good cause, might I add) and in one exhale…there they go. There they go.

“So long words, and pray, do try to get lost in the wind before you find that poor person’s ears. Please, for their sake, and for mine, don’t find them…”

So, here’s to the ramblers. I’m one of you, and I understand the want to cover your mouth with a hand, or tape, or glue. And if you ramble to me, I'll try to remind myself that what you really meant to say was brilliant, and funny, and charming, and exactly the right thing at the right moment, and it just got lost somewhere along the way...