Conversation

Fuck........wording.......it's such a bane to me. Such a tiresome, cumbersome thing. Ever since I was very young, I was quite averse to having conversations and socialization. I remember various family members from both sides telling me how I was put in speech classes until I was 4 years old because I wouldn't talk. I remember being told how in B4 (the grade I had before kindergarten), teachers would try to get me to play with other kiddos and I would still be pretty avoidant. During middle school, one of the things I detested was group projects because of the discussion aspect. If I did get stuck with such a situation, I'd forego any conversational planning and just start doing what I could immediately see was needed.

Conversely, I've always enjoyed putting my thoughts down in writing. It feels like I'm not being put on the spot like when I have to speak. When I'm not in real time, and I'm able to take my time, writing versus speaking are worlds apart because I've always felt like I could think without feeling pressure. I can, and most often do, go back over my writings and choose the precise parlance I want to convey the meaning I desire (and, admittedly, when I take issue with my grammar/punctuation/spelling). I've always been weirdly given to long periods of silence because I can get lost in the whirlwind world of my own thoughts and the shapes that world produces. Processing things with another human being in a colloquy, whatever it may be, only becomes tolerable and even enjoyable when I can put some of those relevant, important, emotional objects behind it. This helps impart the passion I need to distract from the outlandish awkwardness of just simply.......opening up. Fucking hell, sometimes I really abhor the act of opening up.

Looks like I'm going to need some immersive therapy for the rest of my life if I want to change some of these paradigms. They've already lasted me a lifetime.

Intelligent, stimulating conversation can be one of the sexiest things in the world.

Conversation is rapidly becoming a lost art. I can bearly have one with most of the people I know, they are just waiting for their time to speak really.