Sometimes I feel too full of words.
I constantly narrate my life, adding flowery words and poetic phrases, trying to somehow transform everything into a movie or a storybook. When I have conversations with people, I find myself saying things that aren’t entirely true. I wouldn’t say that I’m lying, because that’s not it. I exaggerate things, leave certain sentences to hang, let whomever I’m talking to decide what I did or said in whichever situation we happen to be talking about.
Even just now, I’m doing it. If I were reading what I just wrote, I’d want to know what juicy details I let people believe, but it’s nothing like that. I’m not even sure I can give you a real example. That’s how minor it all is.
Not even worth mentioning, I suppose.
I constantly re-read what I’ve written.
I have stacks of journals on my bookcase, dating back to 5th grade. There are phrases, sentences, even full paragraphs I could quote you, I’ve read them so many times. I have a backlog of over 3,300 livejournal entires. I have read every word written within those pages at least a hundred times, if not more.
I stare at my facebook profile sometimes. Hoping something I post will pop out at me. Try to see myself as others do. See what I’m missing when I look in the mirror.
What makes each of us different from the other? What makes one person more worth knowing than another?
If I changed one or two things about myself, would people like me better? Would people notice?
In the past month I’ve gotten new glasses and dyed my hair; no one has noticed.
What attracts us to people? Is it the words we use, the clothes we wear, the way we articulate our needs?
If I were better at articulating what I feel, instead of hiding my emotions away under the façade of constantly being okay, would it change peoples reactions to me? Is it really as simple as telling the truth when someone asks my opinion on something?
I’m too scared to find out.