Let me apologize...

When it’s time for us to go out in to the world, how prepared are you going to be?

I have no idea. That’s my honest answer. I’m writing this because I’m not big on talking. I should rephrase that. I’m not big on talking with substance. I tend to ramble, and spout random, awkward things. I’m pretty sure that people think I’m some chatterbox that’s more than a little weird. Some people find it funny.

I hate it more than anything. I like the quiet, and it annoys me when people need to constantly have noise. My roommate will turn on the television or some YouTube show whenever she has some downtime. She says she needs to noise, or something to do while she’s eating or whatever. I’ve never really understood this. Does it say something about the times, that silence isn’t rest anymore? Does it say something about us, that we need distraction from ourselves?

That said, sometimes I can’t stop talking. Maybe that’s a throwback to being a little cripple kid with nothing but a mouth with a head that can’t keep up. There’s a feeling to it, this need to matter, and saying something becomes asserting presence as opposed to adding to the dialogue. I try to tone it down, but when I do, people automatically assume something’s wrong.  Part of me justifies it by reasoning that “Well, when you choose to say something smart, they’ll be amazed!” but the problem with that is that I am smart. People shouldn’t be amazed, and they sure as hell shouldn’t be surprised when I pick up on their supposed cleverness.

The issue at hand though, is that I hate talking to people about serious issues in relation to myself. It physically hurts and I have anxiety about how they’ll take it, or what they’ll feel about me. Even counselors or doctors. So I’ll sit at this computer and tell my tales to no one and the whole world all at the same time.