Today I bought two shirts. It's not easy (yet not too hard) finding a black shirt that fits me nicely. I've been looking for more of these because they are a part of my dressing style. I've always liked to dress nicely, and recently I've come to develop a style that I like and that I think reflects something of who I am (and also that goes well with my body type.) I've also been working on decorating some of my clothes. I've been decorating a hat that I recently got back from my mother's house. I am going to add a red pan-chang knot in addition to the spiky studs that I already put into it. I figure it's going to be quite eye-catching. I think it already is. I'm not the kind of guy who likes to draw attention to himself, but on the other hand I do like that self-expression and I dislike looking like the rest. I always strive to have that distinguishing feature that sets me apart. During the winter I wear a wizard hat that I crocheted myself, last year I painted my right-hand nails in neon colors (this in the context of a rural area where it's unseen for men to paint their nails). My partner devised for me a super cool haircut which I wear proudly (she herself has painted her hair neon pink, by the way).
I don't know, but I think I'm giving off the wrong signal.
Because when I walk into a bar and a person seems to be interested in me, they ultimately face with a gaping void where a conversation should ensue. I think that by my way of dressing I have inadvertedly given the impression that I am an interesting person.
Which I'm not.
And I have no conversation whatsoever.
Okay, so you may be thinking right now: "what about all the stupid shit you post here all the time? why don't you talk about it there?" I imagine you already know the answer, actually. And in fact, the reason I write that stuff here is because I cannot express it in social situations. If I could, I would, instead of inflicting you, dear reader, with it.
It all comes from my past, having lived in the city, at some point having lived with artists (and drug addicts, it's exaclty the same thing), of having been a performer of sorts. But the version of me who was able to hold a conversation (let alone an interesting one!) starved to death in Guanajuato over 10 years ago.
I still crave conversation, though, and some times company. But I am unable to hold my end when the occasion presents itself. I find myself an inexhaustible source of awkward silence. The only people with whom I feel at ease and am able to engage are miles away, and even that has deteriorated somewhat.
Again, that is why I blog here, I guess, so that I can dump all my thoughts somewhere, even if it means this time bothering strangers on the internet. At least I don't get to see them yawn in front of me ;)