hello stranger

for someone who spends all of their time talking about themselves i am really bad at it. somehow the words never seem to form right when i have something to say of value. someone will ask "so do you like guys" or "what are your pronouns" and i will freeze up. somehow certain words seem laced with poison,  or just strong feelings of strangeness to say out loud. i just cant seem to do it. everyone around me is so open, can joke so freely about their intimate selves. yet somehow for me everything stays hidden.

when others confide in me i feel fine and want to comfort them. when  they say "i feel like this/am this kind of person" i applaud their bravery and ability  to articualte the nuances of their own existence within a grammar that deliniates and destroyes non-conformity. yet somehow i cannot let myself do the same. i always joke that these things "never  come up in conversation" but i just suck at talking about it. and when i actually do try no one gives a  shit and its just awkward. maybe i am just afraid that i am projecting something. that secretly when people spill their intimate selves i think  "what a fucking loser" and do the same to myself. i dont think i do that, but i dont know anything about myself anymore so whose to say.

i think i have a strange fascination/desire to be found out. i keep all this secret, i feel so  gross or cringey for opening up about these things for fear that i sound whiny or strange,  yet despretly want people to know. i want people to want to know. i want to be able to tie my shoes and trust that someone will wait for me. for some reason i love hugs yet hate the aesthetic of liking hugs. i pretend not to like them, i dont know why. i want people who wont listen to me and will hug me anyway, because for some reason i dont have the ability to say "i want a hug". maybe i feel like being vulnerable is weak? or maybe  i  just dont want to burden people. i used to think  those  things but i dont anymore,  so  why do my actions still reflect that? being "found out" short  circuits the whole issue, because then i have  no choise in the matter. i want to be fully transparant but invisible, a  mystery that unravles if you squint hard enough and put all the pieces together.  but i know no one will, my complex inner complex wants someone else to do the  work of decyphering it i suppose. i want people to know about me without having to go through the process of opening up to them.  

someone once said "i think your cool but  i dont understand you". i dont know how to feel about that. i dont  think i am cool or edgy for thinking like this.  honeslty i am not even  sad, just weirded out by the way i  feel abou t these  things. i have a physical note book too. sometimes write here, sometimes i write there. but you dont see those writings, those sketches of a person too personal for even me to look at without gawking at the gore given form with the pen.

most people have a finsta for things like this, where their friends will pretend to care and go on scrolling. me? i scream into the void. people have said that before about twitter, and repeating it makes me feel basic. i dont even know why i care about these things, its petty and conviluted and arbitrary but so is all of life. 

ha, i just proved my point. i cant seem to talk to myself to others. i run away. so much of my life is predicated on being different and interesting, yet when the time comes to be a version of myself that is different it all falls apart.

i wonder if people read these things anyway.  my keyboard is broken and it does too many spaces in between words. this bothers me. whatever dude, life goes on......