why i dont like to talk about myself
i beleive there are two types of lies. the first are lies that get you out of a situation. it's very simple, maybe saying you didn't break your neighbor's window while playing baseball (when of course, you absolutely did). the second are lies that let you gain from the situation. for example, the reason why i don't like talking about myself has almost nothing to do with british actress and humanitarian, audrey hepburn. but it sure did intrigue you, didn't it?
i only bring her up because she also found talking about herself to be distateful. if i recall correctly, it had to do with her rigid upbringing and strong boundaries on privacy. but more importantly, and i find this rather suprising, she was very insecure. imagine the symbol of timeless elegance of the 1960s, insecure? while i'm nowhere near being a 20-inch waist beauty symbol, i still find myself relating to her.
i think it's just because i don't know how i seem from an outsider's perspective, but i don't find myself very interesting. in a world of selfish people, does anyone really care about what i have to say? a week or so ago i was asked what music i listened to and i thought, 'that doesn't really matter to them. they're just asking so they find it socially acceptable to share theirs,' but i shared anyway and got into a bit of a conversation surrounding common ground. that wasn't too bad. again, the title says i don't like talking about myself, not that i don't do it period.
when i do talk about myself, however, it tends to feel like i'm filling empty air. as if my speech patterns took the form of a short-form content farm (and perhaps there's a link to this in other people, but i tend to abstain from all social media). my mother does this often, so it's a habit i really don't like on people. so if i get overwhelmed when others do it, then why should i be an acception? i've been trying to set a new habit up of quality over quantity. if i do talk to someone, why not say something that actually has value?
i, more than anyone, understand the irony of hating sharing info about myself but having a digital diary. however, i don't expect anyone to read it. of course, if youre here, you're more than welcome to stay, but your presence is rather suprising. it's as if you're a pet cat showing up at one's doorstep after being missing for months. this blog might still be updated recently after a couple years. it might be forgotten after three weeks. either way, it'll be up for someone's cat to pop in at anytime.