Too Much Talking

Thursday, July 19th, 2018

I am not talkative. It has been a life struggle trying to be communicative. It hasn’t been a choice. More like personality. I am better than what I was years ago, but I still do suck at it. At least now, I have some charm – like a sociopath – but I still am sometimes socially awkward. I could pass off as being aloof and disinterested when, really, I am exhausted. Having a conversation is just too demanding. It is as if I do not have the fortitude nor the intelligence to sustain a conversation. I’ve improved to the point where I could start off great, then, I would want to fade into solitude until I’m ready again for another short burst of communication – small talk – until I want to fade away once again.

I wish I was more talkative. Only in writing am I really. Probably because I feel safe. There is no need for eye contact. And I may not get a direct response. Maybe I just want someone to listen.

But I have things to say. Sometimes. I really do wish I was more vocal instead. Talkative isn’t the right word. Vocal – especially at work. And just because I am silent doesn’t mean I am not there. It doesn’t mean I’m dumb or I know nothing. I have things to say in response to such ignorant notions, but I am not going to say it. It would seem “unprofessional”. I sometimes think about what two talkative people think and talk about regarding that one quiet person.

Nobody really knows him. He seems different.

It shouldn’t matter. But I wish I could tell them that. That and to be more professional.

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I’m a Songwriter!(?)

Monday, July 16th, 2018

It’s official. I’m a songwriter.

Wait. Hold on.

*Googles the definition of “songwriter”*

According to Merriam-Webster – “Songwriter (noun): A person who composes words or music or both especially for popular songs”

According to English Oxford Living Dictionaries – “Songwriter (noun): A person who writes popular songs or the music for them”

What the hell? Do they have to be popular? Am I not looking in the right places for the definition? I’m not a songwriter then?

You know what? No. I am a songwriter. Here’s my definition.

“Songwriter (noun): A person who writes songs”

Is there another word for it? Am I a lyricist? I’m not going to even bother checking on Google. I am a lyricist.

I’ve written ten songs, enough for a standard album. If I can’t be called a “songwriter” or a “lyricist”, then what am I?

A Book about *Bleep*ers

Monday, June 25th, 2018

On June 16th, I tweeted the following on my Twitter:

“I will write a book on the people I’ve known in my life with serious issues to raise awareness to stay away from them.”

I already see it. Among a dozen people:

Chapter 1: My High School Bully (Long Chapter)…

I have to keep in mind that I should be objective and not use the “F” word when describing them.

Stream of Consciousness on July 10th, 2018

Tuesday, July 10th, 2018

Uh-oh. I forgot to submit a request for travel reimbursement at my job. The deadline is 60 days. It has been 65 days. So, I’ve wasted about $12. Damn. I spent over an hour trying to remember the account name and password to my E-ZPass account. That is somewhere in my mind. That is somewhere on the four email accounts I oversee. I failed to figure it out, so now I have to find a statement at home because I can’t remember the account number to perform a password recovery.

Uh-oh. I forgot to reduce a monthly payment towards my student loan. Previously, I’ve invested most of my paycheck towards my student loan, but now, I want to be able to afford a new bedroom set in my new house. So, now, I need to reduce monthly payments soon or else I’ll be sleeping on the floor again for a month.

Uh-oh. I need to caulk and spackle the rest of my basement to battle a tick and centipede problem. I need to caulk the bedroom, the kitchen, the bathroom, and around the living room. It’s not a big space, so I don’t know what’s the hold up. I have only one more 10 oz stick of caulk, so I should head to Home Depot. I guess the bedroom is the priority for now.

Uh-oh. I need to figure out how much I owe my mother and pay her back.

Uh-oh. I need to continue revising my horror screenplay before the end of the year AND write a sequel. I need to have some writing completed if I’m going to make a career out of it. Without it, I probably have nothing. Some nights, I try writing music instead. I should go back to my horror. No, my lyrics. Horror. Lyrics. Horror. Lyrics. Horror.

Uh-oh. I need to lose… 65 pounds?… by the end of the year. Not even. Just make it 40. 35. I need to make some progress. I’m almost 30. I’m getting old. My indulgence in fast food, my obesity, my unhealthy diet is most likely taking a toll on me. I’ll be slowly dying in my 30s if I don’t shape up right now.

Uh-oh. Not really. I want to continue my 2K18 career. Come on, man! You don’t have time for that!

Uh-oh. I need a new car. My old car stalls every time I go over 50 MPH. It’s like the movie Speed, but in reverse. It won’t take me to work in the Bronx or Long Island. It seems like everyone around me is spending too much money on car repairs. I should be like my cousin, George, who buys his own parts and spends a week trying to fix his car himself.

Uh-oh. My job is starting to stress me out. Driving to work every day, I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack. I feel like I’ve peaked. It has been seven months and I still feel like I don’t belong. Of course, it’s my position. I’m a floater. Being on the road is wearing me down. The different people are wearing me down.

“What’s your name again? You know my name, but I forgot yours.”

I don’t want to seem rude, forgetful, aloof, disinterested, uncaring, unintelligent, etc.

All this wear on my mind has affected some of my job performance. My superiors who thought I was good before, might think I suck now.

Uh-oh… That’s it for now.