Often, I hear myself in conversations and I feel shallow. Like my mind and soul are more comparable to the cheap tourist-filled gold mines lining the roads to Cherokee. Which is disheartening when it seems like everyone around me possesses a deep, cavernous, rich hole in the ground where you find the real gold.
My thoughts are perpetually circling around the dynamics in relationships, the inner workings of individuals, and my own satisfaction-momentary and lasting alike.
Without stimulation it’s easy for me to lose myself in that world. To analyze and question the human condition and how to simply live a happy life. While forgetting to consider the loftier philosophical ideas. Rarely concerned with belief, but, focused so deeply on action.
I’m often left with a brain that is running so quickly that I can’t put my thoughts into words.
I hear myself speak and feel dense. I can’t quite get the words out like I want. My sentences sprinkled with the ear sores that are ‘like’ and ‘um.’
I’m burdened by the ever-present fear of enjoying the sound of my own voice, a little too much.
So, I hold my words inside.
I regurgitate what I can remember onto paper. But, much of it is lost.
So much of myself is left unseen. Simply because I fear the joy that could come with an audience.
I realize these thoughts are all over the place and it’s a little neurotic to feel guilty for talking.
Not only that but who is it serving?
Certainly not my interests and not the interests of anyone I have the potential for a real connection with.
Professionally, personally, or otherwise.
The sooner I learn to be as direct and un-apologetic in person as I am when I write,
the sooner I will maintain and fertilize genuine relationships that will last.
And undoubtedly I will gain my fair share of people who have a distaste for me.
But, no great flavor is without a few people whose palettes aren’t interested in it.
with love and great flavors,