I talk too much.
There was a time; a better time, a safer time; when I didn't talk at all. I walked in perpetual fear of ridicule. And because the perpetual fear kept a strict watch on my tongue, I rarely ever said things I regretted. Much.
Now, however, it seems to be a case of constant open mouth, insert foot.
I start to say things, and before I've gotten more than a few words out, I realize that I don't want to finish. Either because the subject matter is too personal, or because I'm not sure that the statement accurately reflects the way I feel, or because I fear that whatever it is I'm about to say might be too inflammatory.
If there is one thing I hate (well, there are lots. which means there's at least one) it is to be wrong. I don't know why. Perhaps it comes with my hating hypocrisy in all forms. If I refuse to tolerate mistakes and ignorance and incompetence in others, there is no way in hell I'm going to tolerate them in myself. Which is another reason why I try never to say anything till I'm absolutely positive about it.
I can tell you I detest bigotry, that I loathe pollution and trash and raping the environment. That I love animals. That I love to read, and sing and write.
These are things I don't anticipate are going to change soon.
I can tell you all about the day I had yesterday. I can quote and paraphrase (and I will be sure to diiferentiate the two, never fear). I can describe in detail everything I remember, and I will only tell you what I remember.
Why is it, though? I have had several theories about this in the past - passion for the truth. desire for clarity. need to be trusted.
If I'm honest with myself, it's probably number 3. I have recently come to the conclusion that almost all my actions are prompted by nothing more than simple self-interest. I want to be comfortable. I want no pain. Frankly, pain terrifies me. I don't mean physical pain; I can (and have) taken torn ligaments and ripped lips (another story, another time). I fear pain of humiliation and ridicule. Pain of loneliness and friendlessness. (is there an official phobia for it? i'm sure there will be)
I'm not naturally gregarious, which means I have to work doubly hard to make friends. Networking, is, frankly, a pain in the arse; pardon my french. This means I never let anyone close enough to be completely free with them. Which means I have to make sure they get exactly what I'm saying, and I mean exactly, every single time I speak. And lately, when my guard is down, I end up opening my mouth at inopportune momentS, beginning to say something and then stopping short with a brusque "never mind" which invariably gets me yelled at.
I HATE BEING YELLED AT!!!
I AM A STUPID INSECURE PIECE OF YOU-GUESSED-IT-CRAP!!!!!!
I AM A COWARDLY CREATURE WHO RUNS FROM CONFLICT AND UNPLEASANTNESS!!! (unless i'm in the right, in which case, and only in that case, I will fight you to the death (or till there is an amicable consencus (yes, i have a thing for these things (parantheses, dummy)))) close brackets!!!
Of course, it may just turn out that I'm psychotically anal and all of this is bull.
There was a time; a better time, a safer time; when I didn't talk at all. I walked in perpetual fear of ridicule. And because the perpetual fear kept a strict watch on my tongue, I rarely ever said things I regretted. Much.
Now, however, it seems to be a case of constant open mouth, insert foot.
I start to say things, and before I've gotten more than a few words out, I realize that I don't want to finish. Either because the subject matter is too personal, or because I'm not sure that the statement accurately reflects the way I feel, or because I fear that whatever it is I'm about to say might be too inflammatory.
If there is one thing I hate (well, there are lots. which means there's at least one) it is to be wrong. I don't know why. Perhaps it comes with my hating hypocrisy in all forms. If I refuse to tolerate mistakes and ignorance and incompetence in others, there is no way in hell I'm going to tolerate them in myself. Which is another reason why I try never to say anything till I'm absolutely positive about it.
I can tell you I detest bigotry, that I loathe pollution and trash and raping the environment. That I love animals. That I love to read, and sing and write.
These are things I don't anticipate are going to change soon.
I can tell you all about the day I had yesterday. I can quote and paraphrase (and I will be sure to diiferentiate the two, never fear). I can describe in detail everything I remember, and I will only tell you what I remember.
Why is it, though? I have had several theories about this in the past - passion for the truth. desire for clarity. need to be trusted.
If I'm honest with myself, it's probably number 3. I have recently come to the conclusion that almost all my actions are prompted by nothing more than simple self-interest. I want to be comfortable. I want no pain. Frankly, pain terrifies me. I don't mean physical pain; I can (and have) taken torn ligaments and ripped lips (another story, another time). I fear pain of humiliation and ridicule. Pain of loneliness and friendlessness. (is there an official phobia for it? i'm sure there will be)
I'm not naturally gregarious, which means I have to work doubly hard to make friends. Networking, is, frankly, a pain in the arse; pardon my french. This means I never let anyone close enough to be completely free with them. Which means I have to make sure they get exactly what I'm saying, and I mean exactly, every single time I speak. And lately, when my guard is down, I end up opening my mouth at inopportune momentS, beginning to say something and then stopping short with a brusque "never mind" which invariably gets me yelled at.
I HATE BEING YELLED AT!!!
I AM A STUPID INSECURE PIECE OF YOU-GUESSED-IT-CRAP!!!!!!
I AM A COWARDLY CREATURE WHO RUNS FROM CONFLICT AND UNPLEASANTNESS!!! (unless i'm in the right, in which case, and only in that case, I will fight you to the death (or till there is an amicable consencus (yes, i have a thing for these things (parantheses, dummy)))) close brackets!!!
Of course, it may just turn out that I'm psychotically anal and all of this is bull.
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