I was listening to myself talk the other night at work, to one of the co-workers. She had out this magazine and she was looking through it and gossiping, asking my opinion on this and that and I gave it, generally agreeing with her or grasping out vague ideas I thought wouldn't be too offensive or different.
Then she got to the crossword and started asking me questions from it, not filling them out or anything, just asking questions. Not really sure what prompted that. Since it was a trash mag the questions were all pop culture, and I came right to life, disagreeing with her when I knew I was right, actually talking about some of the questions. She didn't believe me there was a movie called 'The Purple Rose of Cairo'. Probably wouldn't have believed me it was actually a decent Woody Allen movie, either.
Then I got a phonecall and the conversation ended, as they do in callcentres. Got me thinking, wondering why I can't sound like that all the time, like I'm there in the conversation and taking part, that I'm a human with opinions and interests and not just a guy who talks about his cat like he's Ralph Wiggum or something.
But fuck it, I like the way I am, all the other fuckers can be normal, there's enough of them already. I'll be stilted and shy and weird, for now at least.