because otherwise 99% of my thoughts bounce around isolated within the confines of my own head... and my words remain bound to care-worn notebooks. writing starts to feel too much like mental masturbation. socially i am far too conscientious of the person in front of me, too uncomfortable if i feel like i'm dominating a conversation, and very afraid of discussing anything that won't be matched with avid interest and pertinence to the other. i absolutely delight in questioning and listening, eager to offer feedback as it relates to someone else's topics... and for some reason i'm always able to find them all somehow relevant. i'm able to discover enough meaning, sufficiently connecting to a level of satisfaction that keeps me from ever feeling bored.
so i wish i didn't get the disconcerting feeling that someone's humoring me to let me speak of my own subjects... or read this diary for that matter. what double-standard do i harbor to not allow the opportunity for others to make the effort and stretch to understand me? why am i afraid of revealing things unless i'm positive that they are in the most easily digestible form i can produce? why must i protect others from many aspects of my mind as if i'm so tough to process? am i insulting their ability to fend for themselves to question what they don't get, express disagreement, draw boundaries?
i dunno. been working on this one a while. inquiring minds want to know...
perhaps you can help me out: if you know me (or even if you don't but are interested nonetheless) maybe you can explicitly state your interest in what i may have to say, if you do sincerely feel it, and assure me that you are willing to listen... and that you'll also tell me to shut up if you've had enough. then maybe i won't worry. and even possibly you will get something out of what i share and you will like it and find it helpful and thought-provoking to inspire your own ideas and the expressions you put forth... you can get stimulated and touched, so you return the energy and it swirls back and forth until it escalates into an orgasm of creativity...
and that's the sort of intercourse this girl pines for.