CD: Bikini Kill, "Pussywhipped"

This summer my subconcious has almost taken over. It's fascinating and scary at the same time. I think it started during my many ours alone in the car, singing to myself and cursing me out whenever I'm just about to merge into heavy traffic. Recently, these verbalizations have found me on the sidewalk, at work, or while watching television. Usually they consist of only one or two words--if that--but they can border on Tourette's every once in the while. This only happens when I am alone in a place, so it is nothing like the truly crazy people you see talking to themselves along a New York City street. But why am I doing them? Why were I not prior? Will it make me "CRAAAAAYZEEEE?" It's like mumbling incoherent things in your sleep, but instead I'm awake at the same time. I hope it's not chronic schizophrenia; that would be a demon hell ride, making me laugh like a crazy clown in the Bozo circus . . . .