I am incapable of making new friends.
This I realized while I was naked in the shower (my place of thought). Finding this out while being naked was sad in and of itself (saying "in and of itself at the end of a sentence is like wearing your thong higher than your jeans). Am I incapable of making new friends because of the way I look naked? And if so, how does everyone know what I look like naked?
I digress.
It is not that I am incapable of making new friends because I have weird shoe-polish breath or have an obsession with other people's deodorant. It is that every time I meet someone, we get along, we have fun, we get along, fun is had, and then I find excuses in my mind of why I am too busy to continue contacting them.
I am incapable of maintaining new relationships. I am very freaking serious right now. It scares me.
I am very much partially freaking out at this moment. I would be very much completely freaking out if I were naked. I may just get naked in the living room right now to indulge in a full-on nude nervous breakdown.
I wont. Carrie just walked in to get water. She looked at me like she was glad I was clothed. I don't get that look too often (you know.. because everyone wants to see me naked).
See that parenthetical display of overconfidence! I am hiding in those parentheses by making a joke and avoiding my deficiency in character.
All of these manic thoughts came into mind when I started thinking about Blanche from Streetcar Named Desire. I am playing her in my acting class and trying very hard to bring this complex character to life. In the midst of trying to act as another person, I uncovered a very dark and upsetting place within my own psyche. I never know how to use the word psyche.
Real talk: I'm worried that I am crazy. I want to know why I cannot relax and enjoy the good in my life. Why must I constantly blog about these higher issues and intense psychological questions? Why can I not let myself just be happy?
Why can I not let myself let new people in my life? Let is a funny word. Let...let, let, let, let, let, let.
Well, I know there are many answers for such questions and I fear delving into any of them. I guess I'm going to have to. Or I'm going to have to buy a bunch of cats.
Do you remember Shep Huntleigh?
So you're reading this and asking yourself, "Why am I reading this?"
BECAUSE, as always, reading my blog makes you feel better about yourself. Sad! That's mean.
See.. I was about to publish this post after that last statement but then I felt really unsatisfied. I always blog for answers, but this blog has left me with no answers and many more questions. That is more than mildly frustrating!
I have reached the nucleus of Katlyn and don't know where to go from here. Her nucleus resembles a Mexican ghetto where things are sketchy yet sexy .
She has begun speaking in third person.
SHE IS CRAZY!
She must be naked.

2 comments:
I found your blog. I feel like I sneaked into your underwear drawer and I'm sniffing your panties. Disturbing imagery? Maybe.
In response to this post: I knew you hated me. UGH, you fuckin HATE me!
Not really. For realz, my KK, I'm the same way. I love having friends and having fun, but it's hard for me to keep in touch or go out of my way to see them. Sometimes being alone just seems more convenient.
But I need to stop that shit, and so do you! I will not let our relationship be a silly one night stand, a fling, a fly in the pants. I'm just not that kind of girl. Hmmmph. *sticks nose into air*
those parentheticals are where you keep me.
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