bullshit.
i am a tad bit lame today.
sometimes i shrug along with the rest of everyone, attempting to maintain my outward confidence or occasional indifference. perhaps, i think, i project an air of assorted business and productivity that perhaps, i think, sometimes, is a pretense.
a pretense because i talk too much about my ideas, things i know how to do, things i once did, things i want to do, and yet, my ideas often remain a sentence in a book somewhere.
a result of a crippling fear. we do not do because we are scared.
and i talk about my childhood, and i was shy then, not because i was particularly introspective or content to remain quiet (which did become the case) but because i was so scared of interaction. the interaction of my ideas with the everyman. the collision of the inside with the outside made me retreat, back away from conversation, action.
and i think, now i am different. so different. i can speak now. and i say (talking about said childhood)
"hard to believe i was so shy, huh?"
but i don't think it really is. and i don't think i am oh so different anymore.
i am scared to death to show you my mistakes, so i don't show you anything.
i am quite good at projecting illusions, often.
and yet, i am talented, bottled up.
i want to do things and then worry about them later, not before they ever happen.
i am sick of being that person.
sometimes i shrug along with the rest of everyone, attempting to maintain my outward confidence or occasional indifference. perhaps, i think, i project an air of assorted business and productivity that perhaps, i think, sometimes, is a pretense.
a pretense because i talk too much about my ideas, things i know how to do, things i once did, things i want to do, and yet, my ideas often remain a sentence in a book somewhere.
a result of a crippling fear. we do not do because we are scared.
and i talk about my childhood, and i was shy then, not because i was particularly introspective or content to remain quiet (which did become the case) but because i was so scared of interaction. the interaction of my ideas with the everyman. the collision of the inside with the outside made me retreat, back away from conversation, action.
and i think, now i am different. so different. i can speak now. and i say (talking about said childhood)
"hard to believe i was so shy, huh?"
but i don't think it really is. and i don't think i am oh so different anymore.
i am scared to death to show you my mistakes, so i don't show you anything.
i am quite good at projecting illusions, often.
and yet, i am talented, bottled up.
i want to do things and then worry about them later, not before they ever happen.
i am sick of being that person.