"only teaching us to fall"

It was a brain-foggy kind of Saturday, I'm not really sure where most of the day went.  Cleaning and napping, I suspect.   Eventually I made Hands and Hips a chocolate honeycake (an unattractive but delicious brick of a cake) then went over to eat tibetan burritos, the two cakes they made and watched Ready Player One (less ick than the book, but nothing I'd recommend) and loved on their dogs.  

 

I keep thinking about something I posted yesterday about the image I want to project. It's not exactly trying-too-hard, I don't want to be aloof or seem like I'm judgy or above something, I still want to be as all-in as I can most of the time, if I'm going to do something , I want to do it well and whole-heartedly.  But I also know that on any given day I replay most conversations I have in my head as I'm trying to fall asleep, looking for what errors I made, trying to figure out where or how I fucked up (there are no days without fuckups, they're just more minor some days than others) and so I want to also sometimes want to play to the audience of myself and give myself fewer things to regret.

 

And I know it's a, well, not a double-edged blade, more like a blade with no hilt, I'm going to get cut no matter where I try to grab the thing,  I think I'm too much, I think I'm supposed to mute my pointy bit and my hunger for connection, to become something more acceptable, but there's no good way, no clear path.  Either I'm puppy-eager, stumbling over my own enthusiasms or I'm unable to engage, unable to make whatever assumptions other people make that allow them to converse, to assume whatever it is they have to say is interesting enough to be said.

 

This whole being-a-person-in-the-world thing seems so effortless when other people do it.  I have so many questions.