It gets harder for me to properly communicate with people every day. Since late summer of 2007, it's been an increasing concern of mine as I soon realized that much of the work I'll do ultimately racks up to connections. Various peers of mine frequently get to work on exciting projects out of their talent, social ability or financial situation. And though I'm not sulking about my lack of talent or insecurity, it's still frustrating to note that my ability to properly socialize/communicate has been on something of a decline. Further to the point, when confronted with Social Scenarios (as rare as they are) I bottle (or clam up, as I love sea life so much) to a point of a nauseating kind of confusion. Paranoia soon strikes me as I wonder if I've been caught up in something of a McShane family curse (few and far between are those of the McShane clan that remain sane. The McShanes are my mothers side of the family).
"It's when I either look at my hand or my father" I said over Chinese food.
"Strange, it's often when I look at my dad as well" my friend replied.
What it, or that, is, is this feeling of one's legitimacy as a real entity. I will not explain in full depth what it is out of fear of sounding like I'm either clamoring for attention or realizing the truth that I may have a few screws loose in my head.
All's well that ends well.
I believe I belong in Europe. Or Asia. I wish to be in Greenland. Isolation and Safety, small population. I want to embrace people.
Frustrations also come in fear or rejection of creative peers involved in the same art form. So many are more worthy. Just as many are less (though I have no right to speak of the latter). I fall in limbo all the time with regards to this statement. That's for another day.
I had not yet entered into the blog the title track of the Days Run Away series.
Here it is.
Days Run Away IV: Days Run Away
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