prolonged silence in social situations bothers me greatly, and it has weight to it that can be felt in the situation at hand. causing an actual physical discomfort, when you are around someone and silence takes hold, the lack of spoken words become almosts too much to bear. the feelings of awkwardness and discomfort build with each second that passes and no words are spoken. the proof that there is something in nothingness is proven as time progresses. watching it from afar is enough for me to have to turn away and feel the shame and strangeness this phenomenon creates.

sitting with two friends yesterday, a distraction from my phone and issues of the day took me away from the conversation. unaware of what was going on around me, my attention drifted further into the small screen and other issues and situations that appeared as red dots in multiple conversations on an application that did not exist in my life but for the past couple of years. as if in a new world, the emotions and responses took hold and i found myself ignoring the two friends whose accompany i had been dancing with most of the evening. like anger or angst of other feelings that won’t go away, distractions seem beyond my control, clamouring for my attention and requiring me to interface with them while my friends carried on. my inability to check my phone and then respond reminds me of how if i don’t run the day then the day will run me.

understanding that these feelings will pass, i try to breath a bit easier. a most recent bout of anger and frustration had subsided a bit, the recent loss to a friend in a sporting game did not help the mood, but it would pass as well. all of it will. the good and the bad, the only thing i have to remind myself is that this too will pass. i find life analogous to standing on a bridge over a flowing stream, and everything passing me by or coming my way is floating on this stream. the good and the bad, packages and gifts floating down and us on the bridge enjoying the bits of good but also opening packages of evil. it rains on the bridge sometimes, and this rain causes all the gifts to be damp and seem gloomy, but sometimes the weather is great and even the crap we open in the boxes feel special to us. as packages pile up, they fall back into the river behind us, or simply fade away, we can look back and be nostalgic of those people and things we had, they look better in the past then when we had them on the bridge with us, but there is more to come. on the bridge i stand, watching life pass me by while opening and closing packages of imagination and feelings over and over again.