2008-03-02 @ 6:52 a.m.

I'm a nervous person, a nervous girl. I bite my nails. I'm a leg-jiggler--I bounce my leg up and down, anxiously, nervously, always.

I talk faster than my tongue is able to move, so my words meld together in an indecipherable mass of inarticulate speech; it's all an attempt to make the moment end quicker, to have less time in which to make a fool of myself. I succeed in neither. I end up having to repeat myself once, maybe twice more to get the point across, to make you understand while compensating for the way the words fall clumsily from my lips.

I just want to be less conscious of my words and mannerisms, of the fact that I take up space in the room. It's the same space that you take up, maybe a little more or a little less, but the same space nonetheless; the only difference is that I'm aware of it and you're not.

<<before - after>>

The Weather Underground - 2008-11-12
- - 2008-05-06
She knows I can read. - 2008-05-06
William Jacobson - 2008-05-02
Lost Boys - 2008-04-30

everything © Claudia (2003-2008)