The Smiths

Why is it that the things we want the very most are so seemingly unattainable?
The things we ponder over and over. The things that mark every dream and waking reality.
Maybe I’ve been listening to that Smiths song too much.
“Please, please, please, let me, let me, let me get what I want – this time.”
When something starts to become an addiction, perhaps even a weakness in character.
Maybe I’m speaking out of experience here, (past, or otherwise) but then again, maybe I’m not.  I can’t really say and blow my cover, you see?

It’s hard for me to say what I need to say.  I can apparently write it, and maybe that makes me a little bold… But why do I still feel like such a coward?
Because it’s like someone has a hold of my throat, and just begins to apply the slightest of pressure when particular thoughts come up from the heart and into my head, about to form them into words spoken.  But maybe that’s a good thing.
Well it is in some ways.  Sometimes I need that filter when it doesn’t bother to show up.  But in these instances, I’m constantly left pondering afterwards, “Why didn’t I say that?”  I know a lot of people feel this way from time to time – some more than others, yes. But still, I can’t help but feel like there’s something wrong with me in this case.  Let me explain.

Like I said before, about it being like a hand, gripped and steady, around my throat.  I’ve literally been in situations where it was like I had to physically move to get the words out… As though I was actually fighting off this hand clenched around me, trying to stop my attempts at heartfelt honesty.  It’s actually physically painful.
That’s the only way I can describe it…
Or maybe it’s also like a wrestling match with my tongue.  Trying to form the words, and my tongue refuses to corporate.  Brat.  Like a stubborn child, stomping its foot in utter protest for having not gotten his way on some matter – that’s my tongue.
Stubborn as the rest of me, I guess.
Once again, I find myself wrestling with this fiend, trying to overcome it.  But losing at an alarmingly fast pace, watching helplessly as the moment passes, people move on, walk away, and I am left at the crash site. Picking up pieces of shredded dignity, and moving on as well – although begrudgingly.  “If only”s trapped in my head, swirling around and around on a brightly lit carousal.

I’ve had several people tell me, (some close to me, others not as much) that I’m an awkward person.  Still to this day, not sure how to respond to that.  I mean, it’s not as if it isn’t true.  I think I’m just in my head far too much. Which is why it seems like I have all this time to write elaborate metaphors for the inner workings of myself.
I don’t have all this time, really.  I just ponder far too much on these things while doing other things that I should be concentrating on… But that’s a separate subject.
So being in my head too much can help with my writing, but when it comes to social situations – not so much.  I’m honestly surprised people don’t think there’s something seriously wrong with me sometimes.
I was talking with a good friend the other day, touching a little bit on this particular subject because he had expressed that he was similarly in his head a lot. Not in the crazy way I am though, don’t worry. But I was telling him a bit about the struggles I had with trying to talk with my parents about anything at all. And how I’m working on it, but I honestly still have those same problems today.  They’re hard habits to break, especially when it feels like you were born with it. Like a disease, and not just something you can take a pill for and get over it. It sticks with you, like it or not.  I do not.
Nevertheless, when talking with this friend, I feel like he gave me a strange look at first (or maybe I imagined it…) when I told him how I struggle in social situations sometimes.  Here’s the thing, I can say weird, funny things because I have no filter on that stuff, and also well, cheesy jokes run in my family.  Sorry, dad!
So I feel like people don’t know how shy, or in my head, I am.  It’s like how they always say that shy people can come across as snobs when they don’t mean it.
I’ve known people who claim that they’re shy, but are actually just snobs. You can normally catch that…
I can ramble on and on about unimportant things – silly things.  But I can’t seem to spit out the important, vital things, when needed.  It’s incredibly frustrating, this war within myself.  I wish the barrier would come tumbling down.
I wish Gumption could kill Reason, sometimes.  Bang! Gone. Now please, speak freely.
“So for once in my life, let me get what I want. Lord knows it would be the first time.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xLc5dVypsgc