Say...

Sudden moments of isolation are nice, aren't they? (no need to respond...)
Those times when you're in full-tilt social or performing mode, at a work party or a club or a friend's house...lots of noise, conversation, calculated interruptions. Maybe you hit the restroom...maybe you step out for a smoke...you're suddenly ALONE. Just you and the super-ego echoes. I've noticed that lately, in these stolen segues, I seem to strike up a brief conversation with myself. Something along the lines of "Here I am" or "That was interesting, huh?" Most of these conversations are brief, reassuring and pleasant (with a smidge of levity and a hint of irony). They're usually followed be an extended staring session at an object or pattern of interest in the area (if it's the Men's room, the pattern is almost always what's just North of the urinal directly in front of me). These few seconds give me the impression of empowerment and, to some degree, existentialist immortality.
When I was younger, I'd have conversations with God like these. Impromptu and effortless...made perfect sense. I didn't even have to say anything outloud...a simply wry skyward glance would suffice. These recent "how-do-you-doo's" are a little different but, still, seemingly directed outward. One of these days I must remember to scan the stalls for any listeners I may potentially freak out.
Then again, in this world of "hands-free" phone conversation, we are already a nation of solo-talking lunatics wandering the streets freely.
Voices bounding into the electric strata without a care in the world as to who might be listening.
I think my conversations are small checkpoints. My way of taking stock of my perception of it all and making sure I still have a grasp of the invisible world...where those fleeting "spots" in the corner of your eye might not be just dust...where, regardless of current surroundings, the right combination of cleaning agents, cheap cologne and bagged lunches can send you back to 11 am on any given schoolday in 1982...where those golden moments of dialogue shared with friends and colleagues maintain and thrive. Maybe I've always been talking to the same person. It always seemed familiar and external...I'd hate to ruin it by over-analyzing it. Then again, it's been so long, maybe it's "un-ruinable".
I suppose I'm comfortable believing that it just may be impossible for me to feel totally alone.