Categories
Non-Fiction

Nothing But Dust Between the Ears

I spend a lot of time in my head. A lack of car in the bay area—a place hostile to anyone wanting to use public transit outside the center of Oakland, SF, and San Jose—means I don’t go out a lot. When I do, I’m either at the mercy of catching a ride with someone who has different goals for the outing, or I spend enough time walking or riding busses and BART that what should be a nice afternoon or evening turns into a whole day affair.

So instead I stay home and hide in my head. I write, I watch stuff on streaming, I try to find a thread of focus that lets me do website work, or lately I’ve started finding games that work under Linux due to Steam’s proton. Castle Crashers is good relatively mindless fun — button mash to commit cartoon violence and laugh at poop jokes. All of that to say, I think a lot.

I end doing that sort of navel gazing that leaves me afraid to step out the front door. I end up with the idea that people are so foreign that attempting to communicate is impossible. At least until I spark with someone, and then I am so desperate for human conversation, I’ll literally bury them with my thoughts until I feel guilty because clearly they have something better to do. Thanks mom for putting the seed in my head that I don’t have anything useful to say, singing You Talk Too Much to a small child really can give them a fucking complex.

I’m not even sure where I intended to go with this, hell, I don’t even know if anyone beyond one person in particular who subscribed to my rss feed even bothers to read what I put up here. The lack of feedback from anyone else, unless I pointedly ask for it, makes me feel like I’m talking to a void. And I cross post to most of my social media with this shit — in theory this goes up on Twitter, tumblr, and diaspora automagically, and I try to manually cross post to my pillowfort even though everyone following me there already follows me on one of the other three.

Hell, I feel like I’m just whining for attention at this point, and I probably am. But I find it I try to self censor against that, I don’t get anything written or posted. I suppose I should just go back to sorting through my photos backlog and posting galleries of those. At least I wouldn’t feel like I’m wasting someone’s time posting those.