My head is always so elsewhere that the me I manage to exhibit in the here and now is kind of flaky and inconsiderate.
I think if I knew me outside of me, I’d kind of hate me.
These thoughts bother me.
But then every time I try to be more present, I become an even more hopeless ball of social anxiety, and that’s worse for everyone.
So I just concern myself with other things, and then I’m kind of an tactless ball of inattention. But at least one that’s getting some good thinking done.
God bless my roommates, is what I’m saying.