Entry 8: Great on Paper

I think I need a second opinion on this...

This is one of my favorite songs, and the music and video both evoke strong emotions... the video just stops making sense to me about half way through.

Friend A: So what's the deal with Dan? He seems like a really nice guy, he's funny, decent looking... why is he always single?
Friend B: He's just really fucking shy.

And there you have it. The blueprints for a fully functional human being. It works great in theory, but field tests have proven a complete failure. Maybe this prototype would be best suited to online dating.

It's no nascent realization that I'm better at talking in text than with my own two lips. I have a lot to say, but I'm a social aberration. My longest relationship was with someone of a similar bent, and we'd spend the day together in complete silence, then she'd go home and we'd talk about it over msn. Perhaps that's why I miss it.
Don't get me wrong, prose is no substitute for human interaction, it's just what I'm good at. It seems like a strange incongruence though; if you're good with words, you're good with words. But what if you're bad with people?
I used to go through life adamantly proposing that I didn't give a shit what people thought of me. There was some degree of truth to it, but it only applied to people as a whole. The the nameless crowds of high school jocks and bleached blonde airheads who'd never know me. Once I had a connection to somebody, the whole hypothesis folded, and nobody could care more what others thought of them. I guess that's where all the pressure comes from. I have a lot to say, but my mind is swimming with doubt, and any stream of consciousness I had ends up dammed.
So I write. Even if I do have those same doubts, I have the time to collect my thoughts and put them into words. Every time I write, I get to see the real me. Unencumbered by all those second-guesses. I see the potential for a real social animal.

It remains a mystery to me, but with some people I just click. I have friends that would never describe me as shy. I have friends with whom there is never an awkward silence... and I don't know what element is the cause. Around some people, you can't shut me up, I just love to shoot the shit. I look back at these interactions and ask "how is this me?"
Perhaps an anomaly, perhaps not... I think a contributing factor is probably an excess of X Chromosomes... seems like it wouldn't make that big a difference to somebody of my persuasion, but who knows? Maybe I'm a closet heterosexual.
Even that speculation has it's flaws though... I've had girlfriends who would never describe me as shy.
Sometimes I think it's all a matter of interests... if we like the same bands or movies, that's something to talk about. But there are people I have nothing in common with, and we still manage to have endless discussions.
I'm at a complete loss...

I feel bad, because I'm friends with some really great people that are going to have to patiently wait while I slowly emerge from this cantankerous shell. It's really not fair, and I wish I could just hit the switch that makes me real. Perhaps a drinking problem wouldn't be amiss.
It's funny, I have the perfect personality type for substance abuse... but somehow it just doesn't happen.

But enough about me, how was your day?