Believe me, this is no babble.

I hardly ever know exactly what I’m gonna write. Until I sit down and start writing. I let my impulse take over. Seems to me that I don’t necessarily need to have something to say. I’m free to babble. Which means to talk foolishly. To prattle. To talk excessively. Nothing wrong with that. Because if I keep babbling on and on, eventually I begin to say something that’s reasonably coherent. Yes, I surprise myself. Proving that I am not as stupid as I look and often sound. That’s a boost for my ego. My self-esteem. Seldom have I ever been accused of being modest. Because I welcome all the plaudits I can get. Even if it’s merely me patting myself on the back. Which, by the way, makes for a sore arm. But that’s all right. Because the pat feels very good. Incidentally, I find that many people suffer from low self-esteem. Especially women. Many of ‘em need constant bolstering of their morale. Because they’ve been mistreated. Mostly, by men. I’m surprised that more marriages don’t break up. Because of maltreatment. There are more women that should walk out of their marriages. But they lack the courage. The self-esteem. And they take undeserved abuse. Fortunately, some of ‘em wise up. And decide it’s not too late. To start anew. On their own. They are my heroines. And believe me, this is no longer babble. –Jim Broede