here’s some things. things as i sit through this regional stakeholder regional forum. i’m bored with it. i can’t focus anyway. the woman sitting next to me is kind of surreptitiously glancing over my shoulder, reading these words. i don’t care what she thinks.

quite a bit of time to think. that’s not too often a good thing… but here we are.

anyhoo, i’ve never been an easy person to know, to be friends with, to even just be around for any short amount of time. but you probably already know that. i don’t enter conversations well / i get nervous really quickly / i don’t make people feel comfortable. i get upset about things really easily – often i can feel it happen mid-conversation, like a light-switch – & i don’t know what to do about it. then i’ll completely worry about whatever it was that caused the switch to flick. often for days, weeks. it’s a messy combo. i don’t sleep well & never have. maybe never will. it’s not the sort of personality make-up that puts people at ease. oh & being conscious of these things: it makes no difference. i don’t think there’s much i can do, other than just try to be ok with myself. it’s hard but i keep trying. what else is there to do, right?

i think what’s most difficult with the whole human interaction thing is the times when you feel like you’ve over-stepped, over-felt, got things wrong.

in your mind, you over-estimate the importance of someone. your connection. you over-reach. then, someone has to spell things out for you. & it hurts. you’re not as important as you thought. basically, there’s someone else. someone preferable.

again, knowing that this sort of thing will sometimes happen – that doesn’t help. doesn’t stop it hurting, doesn’t stop it happening. sure it has hardly ever happened to me… because i don’t let it. i don’t let anyone in. (so i was 19 the only other time, when i stood outside of that garden in wagga, when she told me it was not going to work, that we wouldn’t actually be friends, & that i should never contact her again. it’s weird but honestly that was the only other time in my life. i got through that eventually but fucking hell. it took forever. it hurt. so much. even typing these words i can feel it again. like a sort of suffocation. like i would have rather not been born at all than to have to feel these things.)

but if i’m objective it all makes sense. the stuff now. there are a lot of people preferable. you could walk down any street & randomly pick people. 9 out of 10 of them: preferable. probably nice people who make the people they care about feel good about themselves. no uneasiness. i know these people. i want to be them.

but i’m not them. not him.

now i’m sitting on the plane. we’ve been sitting here for an hour. it’s pouring & i’m never going to get out of sydney. i miss my cat. she doesn’t much like cuddling me but she’s going to have to when i get home. just for a bit.

i’m not sure why i’m doing this. i have this weird impulse all the time to talk things through – to write about it. even tho, when i think back, it hardly ever helps. i can describe so closely all the things here: the way every detail is emphasised & embossed: like the three-pronged constellation of marks on your right shoulder. but also: the way each little thing you say has a magnitude that can cut me down like nothing else in the world: a casual joke about my haircut, a slight furrowing of the brow, spelling out that you find something i said really silly…

i’m not sure what to do now.

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