Thinking to himself, he was. It was a habit that he had, one that he guessed he must have picked up when he was a child. He thought that all that thinking that he had done since he had become self-aware must add up to several years. Many years devoted to listening to his own inner voice: and look where it had got him! What a waste of time, he thought to himself: fully aware of the irony in that thought. Here he was, sitting on his arse in front of his computer, listening to someone letting off fireworks on the nearby green. That's a laugh, he thought, calling it a green when it's really nothing more than a big dog's toilet for the local neds and their pit-bulls. There! He caught himself doing it again - thinking, that is. Quite addictive it is, he thought. Once you start doing it, you just can't stop it. He started to think about what it must be like to not think to yourself, but his head started hurting, so he gave up and started thinking about making a cup of coffee instead.