some tired things

My dad and I seem kind of embarrassed to talk to each other when we're alone.  There is no "bad" reason behind this.  I think we are just socially fake people and when it's time to stop being fake we have the exact same "Well.  Yep." disorder when we really don't have anything to say.  So we wander off to our separate parts of the house and brood quietly.

Other things I have inherited from my dad: Addictive personality, gait, obsession with weight but also rich foods, enjoyment of animals over many people.  

As much as I want to live honestly, I am always grabbing for chameleon cloaks.  Most people do this.  I do this a lot.  It's not something I can help, and not really me being "fake" per se, it's more of a "what aspects of myself can I showcase to make this person comfortable, and like me."  

I have an overclocked sympathy mechanism.  

I smile and talk sweetly and use folksy phrases at work.  

The dance recital I'm running sound for all weekend is an overbearingly feminine space.  You can see the estrogen shimmering in the air like glitter hairspray; it makes things thick and dramatic.  When I am there I find I've dropped my voice to its lowest register and walk with a slight swagger, desperate to add balance.  

Sometimes straight girls fall in love with me and I want to love them back, but that is just silly.  That was not a statement of ego.  Where am I going with this.

The only person I can be my honest self around is going to be gone for five weeks at a time for a year.  I do not know what is going to happen to me.  I will be lonely and hungry, and start having strange inner-vortex thoughts like I do when I'm alone too long.  I am happy and sad.

Maybe I've never really been myself.