thoughts inside my head (revisited)
(this was written last year in may for a challenge thoughts inside your head that go unsaid,) the first version should probably be read first....it’s called “ugh me”.
I overthink things, here I am right now overthinking things.
The phone is ringing just pick it up. Flip my hair, fix my eyeliner lick my lips. Turn that frown upside down. Cheeks rise above as my lips curve into that of a smile. One would think that time would have changed me. That with time I’m less subconscious less of an overthinker. "Less, Less Less less less."...answer the phone, rather the computer. Zoom I didn’t think we’d be here. Does my face look thin? The camera I know puts on ten pounds. I gained ten. What does that make? Twenty?
Suck in maybe they won’t notice.
I don’t want to talk right now. I’m here out of obligation. And see I still don’t get noticed. one by one everyone hails out greeting “Hi mona how are kids? Hi bob how’s the dog? Hi Christy what’ve you been cooking?”
I don’t have kids, but i do I have a dog, I cook. Why don’t they ask me?
Crap! 10 mins, until the meeting, I shouldn’t have come early. What will they think if i turn my camera off? Or leave and come back?
I look skinny from the top, if I get up they’ll see my bottom half, that’s not an option. If I turn the camera off they’ll think I’m rude. I sit here, look interested, smile. People talk to if you smile, you look inviting right? No. Now I just look dumb.
Finally, I get a “hi! it’s so good to see you,”
"oh, your talking to me?"
Of course, I don’t let that out and something more pleasant comes to mind. Something more that sounds like “it’s good to see you too. how have you been?”
I shouldn’t have asked the second question because the truth is despite the sweet smile and the killer cat eye that I managed today, I don’t actually care. And then there we are locked in a dull conversation about your chickens and other aspects of your southern life. It's actually is funny because I’m Southern. Yet you’re southern and mine, well they’re different.
“I hate zoom conversations,” i think to myself as you Babbel. There like thousands of other conversations and we're supposed to be so engulfed in this conversation about your chickens that I can’t hear the others one.
that makes perfect sense, in no world; ever.
“blah blah blah,” I sing in my head, of course that wouldn’t be polite to do, outwardly. Nice tune, it’s got a good beat. I wonder if other people think I sing as well as I think I do. Maybe I’m biased to my own voice, I’ve had it so long that maybe I can’t tell when I don’t hit the right note,”
A question is asked I wasn’t paying attention, I say something clever somehow I managed the thoughts in mind, our a conversation, and twenty others.
I scream in my mind, even though I nod and smile and act concerned. I’m looking at you but not really. My eyes just fall in that direction because frankly, I don’t want to be rude. I mean, I want to be rude but it would only make the situation worst because I’d have to apologize.
“I think I want to try a thicker cat-eye something more profound deeper, yeah something like Amy Winehouse,” I think as you now hold up your chickens to the screen. It’s by far the longest ten minutes that I’ve ever lived through.
“I hate and love zoom because, well I could come to the screen in my underwear and no one would be the wiser. I don’t have to leave which is great because I hate leaving the house, and I hate zoom because these conversations I can’t ever run away from.
The meetings’ started thank god no more perilous conversation about nothingness. All I have do know is listen and chirp in when I feel like.
It’s a year later I wrote a post like this one year ago not exactly it was May 23. Today is May 15. The thing is I thought I would change. I thought the thoughts in mind would be less harsh more pointed, more focused. And yet here we are one year later and nothing has changed. My thoughts are still scattered and I’ll say scattered but truly their like marbles on glass. My feelings for the humankind and others are indifferent. Our conversations are still pointless. They speak to me out of pity, because they should. A genius interest in me has nothing to do with our conversations. I guess the only difference is that one year ago I was ten pounds lighter. Which frankly I’m working on now. So let's meet again next year, and see. Maybe I’ll be at my goal weight, I’ll be sweet and my thoughts will be more aline with the rest of humankind. I doubt it but we can see and maybe my cat eye then will be perfectly flawless and ill achieve the best Amy Winehouse look ever.