I always do this shit. I pin expectations on people, get self conscious around them, and all for nothing. This has got to end. I’m too old for this shit. Focus. Focus.
I need to stop these fantasies here and now. They’re so utterly pointless. They just make you feel like an idiot. But what can I do if I have an overactive imagination. Imagination and thoughts are so beautiful, but they’re distracting. What to do, what to do. Maybe if I didn’t let people get to me. Easier said than done. You know, I’m most comfortable around strangers. The more I get to know people, the quieter I become. MAJOR problem. What am I doing? Shit I’m talking to myself again. Dammit.
I walk into the university campus and wander around the corridors, openly staring down all the people who have the misfortune to pass by me on this fine cloudy day. I was Arya Chaching, I was an author, I had a blog, I could do what I wanted without having to worry about what people thought about me. Besides I only stare for sociological reasons…… and well because I’m a writer, I need to observe. I can’t help laughing at the thought. Bahaane.
I’m late for class again. I don’t care. I will take my own sweet time because not only have I got no one to impress, but the weather’s so beautiful. I’d rather be out here than in a stuffy room which has barely enough oxygen for a dozen people let alone the hundred or so that squeeze in. I trudge towards class, it’s going to be ok, everything’s going to be fine. To my right a hawk swoops down and grabs a twig from the lawn. I stop and stare, awed. It’s so huge, it’s so cool. It glides away with it’s spoils and I watch it shrinking in the distance.
Refreshed I continue my journey and sing to myself. Today is a good day.
I walk in class, everyone turns around and stares. Cheeks aflame I sit down on the nearest seat I can find. Shit. Back to notch one.