Paralysis

     I wish I knew how to tell the world that I'm deeply in love with it, but every time I try, the words get stuck in my throat.

     Somewhere between being terrified of opening my mouth to speak to beautiful women and fighting to keep my eyes open through the searing light of the sun the morning after, I find a niche where I can be the glorious son of a bitch I want to be. I can dance, I can sing, I can ignore my insecurities for a new york minute and I can simply be.

     It's rare, but moments like this do come around. In these fleeting glimpses of my true nature, I wish the whole world could see me shining, but few people ever really do. I'm unbearably shy, and I get thrown off my game very easily by strangers. There's something in me that worships the notion of the Other so much that a slap in the face from my closest friend wouldn't phase me as much as two cruel words from some girl I meet at a party. Paralysis slowly sets in, and consumes my everything. I stutter when I speak, I don't say what I really mean, I try to play a character actor in a really shitty movie that nobody watched in the first place (idea for a title: "Assholes Who Try Too Hard II: Back With A Vengeance").

Who really wants to take the time to see if I'm a good person anyway, if my first impression is so bland?

And so, it's rare that people will have the patience to stick around and wait for a show that might not happen. And so, I cannot captivate people very easily. And so, I miss out on great opportunities to connect to, and learn from, and have momentary romances with people I've hardly met.

It's said that confidence isn't given, it's earned. I've worked for my fair share, but the count feels light.