I had the weirdest dreams while reading American Psycho. Many of them tracked what Pat Bateman was doing in the novel. I do not think I'll be re-reading it any time soon.
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So it didn't hit me how badly I'd lost my voice until I tried to make a phone call and it sounded like I was going through puberty again. The voice was just so scratchy and whiny, cracking at every moment.
I've tried on several occasions living as a mute, or just not talking to people. It was fun, but today, when it was frustrating to even speak, I learned just how much agony it would actually entail. The level of comprehension would be much the same, but at least when I speak, I can make my thoughts known, and make an attempt to convey ideas and messages.
It did, however, make for several interesting moments when at the restaurant, when I would say thank you to females refilling my water, and my voice would crack. When I would try to rant about something, and it came out mostly as a few disconnected squirts and whines. When people kept making me say stuff just to make me say stuff. Whee.
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