I am a writer.

Yesterday’s blog post pretty much wrote itself.  I’m a sucker for nostalgia and love sharing stories of my youth.  I’m like a forty year old going on ninety.  The old man forcing his stories of glory on anyone within earshot.  Luckily for most of you, I’m only writing my stories down and you can choose to read them or ignore them.  I am hoping you read them…


One reason I started sharing via blogging is because I don’t tend to talk much in large social settings.  I enjoy listening to others weave tales and share experiences.  It’s their time for the spotlight.  Some people need an audience that they can see and gauge their reactions and what story to tell next.  Sometimes there are too many storytellers and they all want to talk and be the center of attention.  When that happens, no one listens.  Except me.  You can always count on me to listen.  My silent smile means I am thinking of ways to have you killed… In a glorified horrific manner… For a story.


I am an avid people watcher.  I sit back and watch the interactions between my friends.  It astonishes me how quickly I can figure out emotional connections (good or bad) just by watching.  I don’t judge.  However, I have predicted fallouts, breakups, dating, and new friendships.  When my friends share personal details of their lives with me, I keep it to myself.  Usually when I speak of a mutual acquaintance- I stick to the basics.  Like when I last saw that person, where we were, what their job may be, how their family is.  I try not to spread negativity.  

 
If I’m out in public, I will judge strangers on their behavior and how they act.  Not always how they interact with me.  Most of the time it’s how they move through this world.  What’s their backstory?  Why are they where they are?  Where are they going?  Human interactions are a curious thing.  

I enjoy being overly kind and friendly to people I don’t know.  I don’t need to get angry at a cashier because the price came up wrong.  Or throw a fit and demand free food if my order is incorrect.  I’m quite happy to just wait while it gets corrected.  During that time, I’ll create a back story in my mind about the person’s life, leading to the distraction of the mistake.  


I’ve always been a writer.  But sharing my stories has been the hardest part.  I’m very selective about what I speak about.  Oftentimes I just throw in a joke or two in order to remain a part of the social circle. My friends are great people and I’m really lucky to have them… If only they knew how many times they’ve died inside my mind.

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