There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don’t know how

On an ordinary day, I’m the friendliest person on the city streets. I smile at everyone and frequently say hello, even to people who scare me a little bit. (Perhaps especially to people who scare me.)

But some days I prefer isolation. Today is one of those days.

You never really know what’s going on inside someone. I feel like I’m shaking, though not visibly, from my hands to my intestines. After a quick lunch in the break room, I turned on my iPod and left for a walk through downtown. With Ryan Adams surrounding me aurally, I somehow feel it’s acceptable to stare at the ground instead of at the city moving around me.

I walked through the park, past the art museum and back to the library, where I feel safe in my anonymity. I don’t need any more books—Lord knows my to read list is long enough already, and I actually have a day-past-due book laying on my car’s passenger seat right now. But whether I’m sitting at this table with a yellow legal pad and pen or I’m hiding among the books, inhaling scents from their borrowed homes, here I can be ignored.

Sometimes, that’s exactly what I want.


Filed under Autobiography, Insecurity

2 Responses to There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don’t know how

  1. at the risk of sounding totally cliche, I just want to say that I totally get this.

    and I actually felt like this yesterday, too.

  2. Karen

    So you’re I is increasing, eh? It’s a bit late, but hopefully it will be encouraging to hear that there’s nothing wrong with solitude. Screw societal pressure! :(!

    Also, thanks for adding me :D. It was nice to see a new face around my own journal. You’re added.

    I saw Greg G. from TBN at O’Henry’s right after I had lunch with you. He says hi.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *