Skulking back to the blog...
So, no, I didn't die in the unheated new apartment. Yet. It's actually a pretty damn cool place.
Tonight I had my first real throwdown, and I was rather impressed that I, as a kind of social outlier, was able to get such as a vast amount of folks to pour through my doors. It's an uplifting feeling, but a fleeting one. In the moment, I thrive off of the attention, but after everyone is gone, I'm let feeling very confused.
Do people like hanging out at my abode because of me, or just because I dropped some bank into buying a bunch of booze?
It's purely a question out of insecure paranoia, honestly, but I can't help but ask myself the question. No doubt is it a role, but am I playing the Harry, or am I just a Falstaff?
Most likely the latter, and I'm okay with that, as long as people consider me more of the supporter and less of the fool. I feel I've been enough of that, and hopefully one day someone might take me seriously.
Done with the Shakespearean references - time for bed.
Tonight I had my first real throwdown, and I was rather impressed that I, as a kind of social outlier, was able to get such as a vast amount of folks to pour through my doors. It's an uplifting feeling, but a fleeting one. In the moment, I thrive off of the attention, but after everyone is gone, I'm let feeling very confused.
Do people like hanging out at my abode because of me, or just because I dropped some bank into buying a bunch of booze?
It's purely a question out of insecure paranoia, honestly, but I can't help but ask myself the question. No doubt is it a role, but am I playing the Harry, or am I just a Falstaff?
Most likely the latter, and I'm okay with that, as long as people consider me more of the supporter and less of the fool. I feel I've been enough of that, and hopefully one day someone might take me seriously.
Done with the Shakespearean references - time for bed.