Sometimes – when I’m with other people, I become ashamed so easily. Sometimes – I know it is stupid, shame on me the same.
You know that picture I gave you? Tear it down or stove it away. I doubt I’ll ever visit you again. Cause the one you see isn’t me. Last time I was losing face, and so I have to fake a new one until I become myself again.
Sometimes running away from the party is all I can think of. But I don’t want to be a miserable idiot, so I stay in a corner, boring myself and others instead.
If I happen to be funny, everything gets worse. If you give me kudos, I won’t dare looking at you. I’ll blush and stutter. And that’s infectious – it gets quiet. It’s so embarrassing, it’s so awkward. It’s my fault that the evening got sticky. It’s a pity and a shame.
But sometimes everything is just fine. Put that picture I gave back on the wall. Just say when and I’ll pay a visit, joke with you, have a talk, make food, feel and laugh, try to please – myself. Not just you. And everyone else present will feel better – when that happens … whatever happens … sometimes.
And in three years time I hope it will be like that all the time.
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