I mean talk and poop have things in common. Where you deposit is important so as not to be rude, crude, or downright unhealthy. When you actually engage in forming the "ehem" phrases the process produces something that is visually distinct from yourself and classifiable and analyzable instead of something that just churns around in your insides with no distinguishable shape of its own. And of course, the "consecration" to the external swirling reality of the finished product results in less stomach knotting and quite a relief. It also provides space to move forward onto more issues or at least desert. Sure talking can be just alot of crap, but, honestly, you don't really know until you "release it into the wild". It might be a golden egg. Of course, with those you really don't want to flush. Not only will you lose something preciouse, you just might clog up the drain.
So, moral of the metaphore? Be a consiensous pooper, and look before you flush.
And I still haven't found the right person to talk to (at this rate, I probably won't anytime soon what with my anti-social insights... sigh... ) yet. Makes me nostalgic for the times when I was in contact with a "significant other": all purpose talking on almost every subject (save one or two) readily available and infinitely comforting. And one or two actually put up with my penchant for "novel" metaphore. Well, there's always the swirling impersonal miasma of the public cyberways. Not entirely personal, but very accepting and able to balance fecal distributions.