Hearing your own voice on tape or recording is weird. At least it is, for me.
My phone works as many things for me. It serves as any normal phone: texting and calling; it serves as an e-book reader; it serves as a mini-computer; and most importantly: it serves as a notepad.
The best thing is that, even if I change phones (which will obviously be another Windows phone) I can still access them through my OneDrive!
So this OneNote, where I take down all my ideas for my blogs, music tidbits, addresses, to-do list and stuff like that, has really cool features. You can put a photo in it, an audio piece, highlight it, strike it, number it, check-box it, and most importantly, record small voice messages.
Sometimes when I get a really good idea or something, if I’m too lazy to type it, I just record it. By experience, I’ve learned not to type things out when I’m irritated or lazy; it ends up being about two words long and later when I go through them, I will have no idea what it means. I have a page titled ‘Toradora’. I don’t know what it is. So voice message recording is easier.
Today, as I was looking for something to blog about in my ‘For My Blog’ page, when I come across two voice recordings, which were some of the latest entries. I listened to both of them, and I ended up being baffled.
I was more surprised by how I sounded than what I spoke. I spoke some stuff about Sunny and a filter in my head and some such sort, but I sounded… Different. Good different. My language was polished, even if it was accented by Kannada (which I’m proud of).
I’ve spent a lot of my life Talking to myself, or it used to be Sunny, or Leo. I think that’s where I’m able to say stuff a tiny bit spontaneously. And, boy, even though I sounded whiny and my words were like a little girl, my concern and my thinking was so much more mature than I ever thought.