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Friday, June 1, 2012
What Am I, a Hermit?
For the second time in as many weeks, I went out to see a play and wound up circling the block before ending up at a coffee shop, sucking caffeine.
(The hard part is going home afterwards and telling Bobby what the play was all about.)
I can't bring myself to walk into a theatre. I can't bring myself to open the door. It's a physical thing. Does that make sense?
Of course it doesn't. But there it is.
I don't feel welcome.
I don't feel good enough. Worthwhile. Worthy. Worth it.
I swear, if it weren't for the shopkeepers on my block of Decatur Street, I wouldn't see or speak to anyone face to face anymore.
Just wanted to take that monkey off my back for a minute and get a look at him, eye to eye.
In the picture up there? I'm the one on the right.