I am seized by paralysis. The words want to come out, but they don’t. And I deeply hope that nobody thinks that I am disinterested, snobby or that horrible word with baggage introverted<\/i>.<\/p>\n
I stand there, perhaps with my arms crossed \u00e2\u20ac\u201d not because I am not engaged, but because it’s comfortable. Years have taught me to hold my hands in an unbendable position hand gripping the other \u00e2\u20ac\u201d almost feeling like my bones can move in eye-bending ways.<\/p>\n
And my eyes, they flick around the room \u00e2\u20ac\u201d in a pause, they settle on a figure. In my mind, I make up stories of their soup of thoughts and goals. Then my eyes move, scanning for the next victim. This continues repeatedly until the meeting is over. <\/p>\n
I don’t want it to be this way, so maybe I smile at appropriate times to blend in. I do as the Romans do in full mimicry. <\/p>\n
But maybe others notice me, shifting in the corner giving an uncomfortable aura. It’s not my intention, but they think of awkwardness and a lack of desire to connect.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I am seized by paralysis. The words want to come out, but they don’t. And I deeply hope that nobody thinks that I am disinterested, snobby or that horrible word with baggage introverted. I stand there, perhaps with my arms … Continue reading