Rift

I rather lack in people skills. I hide behind words, those printed in my comfort books, in my favorite songs, and especially my wit and sarcasm. It's so easy and comfortable for my to retreat into the two former. I spend many a night reading the words of James, Austen, and Chomsky and listening to my favorite Hindi and Heap music, rather than with the people I love. I'm perfectly happy alone, where it's easier to listen to my own thoughts and there are no face-threatening acts of any sort, positive or negative, to deal with. But I've realized that my actions are rather selfish. Okay, they're entirely selfish. They benefit no one but myself, and I've realized that I've occasionally left my friends high and dry because of it. I know it's time to just get over myself and get out, but I think it might be too late now. Which means I can go back to my comfort words and Frou Frou, but now they seem a bit empty...