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imaginary conversations
Ever since I was really little I remember lying awake at night, reliving conversations had during the day, changing my responses, or the final outcome of the dialog. Saying what I really think, instead of this bland conservative goes-with-anything polish I spread on all my words.
Not being able to express oneself is the most frustrating experience...the frustration gets to me so hard, sometimes I feel like I'm going to burst from the strength of all the unsaid things.
So here is an outlet, for a time, to my ideas and thoughts and random comments. Until I meet someone who actually takes the time to listen to what I'm saying, I'll have to remain satisfied with impersonal cyber expression.
Here's one thing on my mind today.
Whatever happened to romance? Why are male/female interactions so frought with painful agonising (in my experience anyways) over one and the other's image, personality and shortcomings, instead of being the liberating magical moments they ought to be? This summer, my encounter of the other sex has been less than enchanting. Sleazy men who wink and grin maliciously at me are anything but attractive in my eyes; and the few who attempted to converse with me were so desperate to display their worth and self importance that they all ended up being insufferable. I don't ask for much, or do I?
I would like, for once and for all, a sincere and in depth conversation with a man, free of self-consciousness and reprehensible motives. I want something real, something raw, something intense, and it could be found in just a few words.
Most of all, I want something honest.
