Archive for March, 2010

Communication breakdown (it’s always the same)

March 31, 2010

Yesterday, for the third time since deciding that if anyone asked I would say yes, I was asked if I was gay.

My reaction, for the second time in a row, completely against my will, was ‘panic and stay silent’ (the first time, I denied it and laughed it off).

I don’t why this happens. The last two times I’ve been asked my brain has just frozen and been replaced with a dead lump until the topic passes. I get asked, and all my thoughts just grind to a halt. I just looked from the asker to the other person there repeatedly, until the other person said something and allowed the conversation to move on.

Thinking about it later, my first, probably really dumb thought is along the lines of “Is this part of adolescence? You have a jackass dickwad in the back of your head who fucks up all your shit?”

But now that I think on it more, I think it’s not really that surprising. I’m already somewhat like this in talking to people who aren’t extremely good-well, established friends. Whenever they say something I “uhh…” for a couple of seconds while I think about how to respond, if they’ll understand what I’m saying, if what I’m saying will offend them, and if what I say will cause them to form some low opinion of me. Of course, this is all instinctual sub-thought stuff, so it’s done in not nearly as many words. No words at all, usually.

So perhaps this is an extension of that. There’s no one I consider myself very emotionally close to, so whenever anyone asks this it’s the same as a just some random person asking a regular question. But this question has added weight from being highly personal and potentially life-fucking-up, so it’s understandable that it could floor my thought processes like that.

This all brings on a second train of thought, which needs more of a play-by-play account of the event:

Me and, let’s say, Greg and Aragorn are standing in the lunch line. We’re talking about something I don’t remember, and this prompts Aragorn, who has been a life-long on-again off-again ‘rather good’ friend-thing, to ask if I’m gay. My brain hits the brakes. I stay silent and look from Aragorn to Greg. After a second of this I realize I’m not doing so great, so I look upwards, thoughtfully, which, given our relationship, should be interpreted as me trying to think of a joke to make. After another second Greg, who has been friends with me since far before Aragorn recently became a friendish thing again, says he doesn’t think I really care, which isn’t quite true, and then says “He will find a hole and fuck it, and if there ain’t one, he will make one…”, quoting Repo! The Genetic Opera. He second statement is pretty much dead wrong, but the situation’s passed well enough, so I shrug and ask if Aragorn has seen Repo!, to make sure the subject changes and stays changed.

Thinking back, the ‘looking around’ reflex is what stands out to me now. It happened both of the last two times, which both involved me not saying anything until the topic passed. And it now occurs to me that essentially I was doing what I’ve heard described as the ‘deer-in-headlights’ look. The first thing that comes to mind after this thought, because I’m a nerd of irredeemable proportions, is Codex from The Guild. I didn’t think I was that socially inept, but I have to consider that I’m somewhere around there.* Hm.

I could certainly add more length, but that’s really all I have to say. And I know I switched tenses a lot, I always do that and have to go back and fix it, but I’m not gonna fix it cause it’s past 2 a.m. Good night, reader.

*This brings on another train of thought, for some reason–there’s a pretty huge fucking divide between how I speak and how I type. Am I using text as a defense mechanism–as in, “Who couldn’t like me when I use big words, don’t pause for no reason, and everything I say is carefully measured and thought out?” That seems like something that requires a few days’ pondering, however. Plus I’m tired.**

**Also, I realize this post sort of goes directly against my previous post’s statement against stupid teenage bullshit. Well, I’m a teenager who doesn’t have any money to do stuff with and lives in the country. What the fuck else am I gonna write about?


In which the author wastes as little of your time as possible

March 28, 2010

I’ve done an amount of ┬áthinking tonight. There was a lot of it, to be sure, but I’m not going to recount it all here. I’ve realized that even though this is my anonymous blog, my thoughts are still my own, thank-you-very-much.

The main arc of these thoughts was centered around possibilities. If they exist, and if I should give a damn. At first I simply caught myself imagining playing guitar and writing a book, etc., which isn’t uncommon, but I wondered why. I keep these daydreams (nightdreams, really, but that’s besides the point) around, but either never consider pursuing them or sometimes just regard them as an impossibility. And, because I’m rarely just thinking and usually am entertaining myself with some songs in my head, “Sing” by The Dresden Dolls floats up. Specifically, the lyrics “There is this thing keeping everyone’s lungs and lips locked/It is called fear and it’s seeing a great renaissance”. I think about it and realize that, as well as I can guess, it’s mostly fear of disapproval from others keeping me from pursuing these thoughts. Although, it’s not the fear I’m used to. It’s not a feeling conveniently labeled “You Are Scared”. It’s heavily disguised as those “Well, you’d probably just quit once you started anyway…” kind of thoughts. And the idea that fear could be so thoroughly ingrained so as to seem like logic is, well, scary.

Now, I’m not going to starting singing, as the song suggests, because I’m plain not good at it. Similarly, despite the epiphany, I’m realistic enough to know that playing guitar is damn hard and I’m most likely not cut out for it. But writing words is easy. I’m doing it right now, again and again. I could certainly give that a shot.

Other than that, as the reader will likely be glad to hear, I’ve realized that teenage epiphanies are, for the most part, bad blog topics. They’re uninteresting, and usually founded on poor logic and only last for an adolescent phase anyway. So, I’m going to do my best to avoid that. What else I have to blog about remains to be seen. Maybe nothing. If so, oh well.

That’s all. I wish you good night and good morrow.