Let's Talk About it - The Awkward Silence

Somehow a recent chat with a friend brought up the feel about awkward silences. She said that a guy-friend of hers had told her that it's nice to talk to her as there are no awkward silences.

And so I remembered the years when I was in Canada. If you do not know, here's a fact about Canadians: They simply hate the so called awkward silences. They have this constant urge to fill in every second with words. It is like a plague. And if they fail to produce a sound, they, of course, have to apologize for it! It's quite ridiculous. As for me, I'm Latvian, we are very different from Canadians. We like to be quite, and we like to keep to ourselves, some more than others, but in comparison, most Latvians will not like if you talk non-stop.

So very often when I would be in a room with one or more Canadians, they would feel pressured to talk. And, naturally, they expected everyone else to pitch into the conversation. When I did not speak as much as they would like, I could see that they begun to feel uncomfortable. It was like someone was pinching them, or as if someone was saying something extremely controversial, or as if they really needed to use the toilet, but couldn't... like something was seriously bothering them. I have to admit that I made fun of this in my head. They have this urge to produce a useless conversation, it's like an addiction. And if it does not go as planned, they went ahead and kept talking.
What do they talk about, one might wonder.

Weather, that's a no briner. It's always changing, and so is a good chat material. You can talk about it at any given time, as the weather is a continuous thing. Winter is cold and filled with snow, summer is hot, fall is rainy....and so on.

Hockey! They either talk about their favourite teams, or if they don't like hockey, they will talk about how much they dislike hockey! They will also go as far as talking about equipment and different leagues and levels of hockey. All this talk will lead in talking about other kinds of sports (or the dislike of all other kinds of sports). I must add, though, that most Canadians do like sports! Now that, in my opinion, is a good and healthy thing!

They will also talk about what ever is happening around. If it's a chat at work or school they'll talk about tasks, meeting, classes, bosses, teachers, ....etc.

They also will compliment each other. Then the small talk goes into talking about where the certain thing was gotten and they will talk about that thing. For example, if I would have a scarf from a friend, the other person would say: "what a lovely scarf you have, looks good with that jacket! Where did you get it?" To this I will reply that I borrowed it from a friend. The other person would then say: "Oh, really? I do that too sometimes. Me and one of my friends, we swap and borrow things all the time." ... Well you get the point, don't you?

What is my say? I think people should not fill every moment with some pointless conversation. It is highly annoying, and brings no good. I like silences, I love them, and I feel perfectly comfortable when no one is saying anything. I think this should be practiced more often.

Maybe people fear their own thoughts and that's why if there is a silence, they have to call it awkward. ..

Stories

Stories they tell. They all have stories that need to be told, but very few of them ever say a word.
And there they all stand, trying to communicate with people with non-verbal signs.
I would love to hear all your stories! Speak up you fools!!!

You Should Know This

There is this thing that I have to tell you. You really deserve to know this. However, there are obstacles. There are facts, even digits in this fragile issue. This is not a quantity, this is an issue. It concerns only me and you, and no body else. Which is why I can not tell you. I have to, but my lips are sealed. My voice is mute, I can not say a word, not to you, not about this one thing. So it is easier to avoid you all in one, it is easier to stay astray and doodle off into my own little world. It is actually better this way.

You have to know just this one thing. You deserve that. It's the least I could do to support fairness in this world. But you've betrayed me once, twice, three times.. It became too much to count. So this time, when it really is a matter of your concern, I will make an exception. I will be selfish and put myself first. It might be about you, more that one could think, but it's more so about me. It is me.

I can not tell you. You would not know how to react. You would panic even. You'd lose your head. But me, I've got a special skill to handle such issues. I'll live through it.
I want to share with just one soul, just some one, anyone really. But no one would understand. No one has the ability to understand, even you don't.
I'd tell you. I'd tell you because it would be so much easier for me. I'd tell you because you have a right to know. I'd tell you because just maybe you'd have an opinion, or a previous experience. Maybe we could put our minds together and deal with this.
Who am I kidding? You would never help me out, even if it was for your own good. I can not tell you, for it is a secret. You talk to much, and your mouth is too big. I could not deal with thinking that too many ears know my secret.

So I will keep it to myself, and not tell a single soul. Eventually everything passes, and life returns to a certain cycle. But as I deal with this, all I ask is for you to leave me alone. Leave me be, and don't you dare even ask what's wrong. Because deep down we both know that you couldn't care less about me.

This shall be the second real secret in my life that no one knows. Ever. It will never be written down. It will never be said out loud. It is something that will pass. And maybe, just maybe, I'll forget about it one day.

What Do You See?

It's funny how in the past week three people in different situations have told me something along the lines of  "it's the first time i hear that you're scared of something!" What do people see when they look at me? I really couldn't grasp what it was they were trying to say. I don't get it!
One of them was my coworker, I was telling her something about this one guy, and all of a sudden she tells me that I'm scared of being in a relationship.. The truth is, I don't want a relationship, especially with this guy. We might have chemistry, a wee bit.. But at the moment I myself don't know what I want, so until I figure out what it is I want I don't need some shallow people telling me that I'm scared. Of course that wasn't enough bull shit for one night. Why would she say that she has never seen me scared! I have always presented myself as the fragile one, I always have been the weak link. Why do some get the wrong picture?
Makes me wonder, do most people see me that way? Do all of you think I am strong? I do put on a mask a lot, but I really never expected that to work! Should I show people who I really am? Should I show that what a wreck I am, how uncertain I am, how weak I am? Would I get more out of life? I don't know, I doubt it. I suppose I never felt like I had the right to be the weak one, you know, seeing how miss fortunate some people are. I have always believed that I'm expected to take what is given. I'd always moan, even cry in my mind, but then I'd bite my teeth together and just keep going. You know how Churchill said, If you're going through hell, keep going. Yeah, I always keep going, sometimes I struggle more that needed, sometimes quite the opposite; I get through easier than expected.

Anyway, where was I going with this?

Right, people don't really know me, and I don't blame them, definitely not. I am glad they don't know me.

Very few of us are what we seem. (A.Christie.)

That's two of my favourite quotations in one post, crazy man! :D

I. Want. You.

There are so many things to say, and yet they'll remain unsaid. There are so many things that I would want to do, that will remain undone. There are just too many words willing to fly right in your face. But I'll hold back, and not say a single word. There are too many memories that can not be erased. There are silly rules and laws. And then there is You. Someone who is there, and then you're gone again. You say one, but who the hell knows what you're thinking.
Too much's been said, so I shall stay silent for now. But one day we'll talk; face to face, heart to heart. We'll talk it all out, so there'll be nothing more to say. But deep down I know that no matter how we part, we'll find a way to see each other again and again and again.

Blame it on the Booze

I should learn to not talk when i've had some alcohol. Yesterday it seems that i've said things that should have been left unsaid. Besides, what was the point of going out if 'he' didn't go. He plain vanished. And later claimed it was because he had to get to bed early. Fuck it. Last night was fun anyway, i had a great time. That's what matters. Of course, arriving home at 5 am isn't great because of the amount of sleep i ended up getting before going to work.. But most of the night rocked my world anyway.

Well, now i should really get some sleep! :)

just talk ?

I was homesick all evening. It sorta killed me, not everything, but a tiny, tiny part of me definately died. I wrote a poem that made me cry when I read over it. It starts off with anger, anxiety, then fast transforms into pain. Not the one you get now and then, but the pain that sits inside all the time and never leaves. And the pain becomes real quiet as the last line concludes, but it's still there, never letting go.
I cried because it starts of so strong, as if I've got the whole world in my hands, but going through the pain the poem becomes powerless, as if there's nothing that can be done to reduce the pain. I cried because it shows how I feel every now and then, it made me sad. I try not to think that way, but I'm never able to control it, not all the way.


I went to a party at the student union today (yesterday that is). I'm pretty sure it wasn't the best thing to do, but hey, better than sitting all alone in my room. None of my friends were there, at least none of those that I say are my friends. So I went there alone hoping to meet someone I'd know. I met my flatmates and their friends. I know they dislike me, but I joined their circle anyway. There can't be anything worse than dancing alone at a party, in my opinion. So right away I start searching for a cute guy. There were a few whom I had noticed previous weeks, but none were good enough. (Ok, there was one, but he already had a girl around his neck.) Quite a few Scottish guys tried some lame pick up lines, and really bad dance moves. Good try, NAT!


There was this really nice guy that I met though. He's Scottish as well but we started dancing together because my flatmates had went for a drink, and everyone else was elsewhere. So for several times during the night we just sticked together so to say. He tried to get me to dance with him, kinda form one of those couples that you see by the end of every party. I said i just wanted to dance, i didn't however mention that I refused his invite due to the fact that HE was the one inviting. We went outside for a smoke. That was him smoking, me just admitting that I had cigarettes with me, just in case I feel like having one, but I stayed off of them and tried to understand what he and and another guy were talking about. (Yeah, the accent is still sometimes a barrier when communicating with people who have never ever lived outside of Scotland.) I found out that he plays in the american football team (so did the guy that I nicknamed Dog, the first one I went to a date in this country). As it turns out there's about 45 of them. And the cute guy with the gal around his neck is in the team as well. Bullocs ? I think so.


I left the party at about 20 minutes before 3 am (the party ends at 3, and it's always good to leave right before everyone does). By now the dance floor had several 'party couples' but not as many as other nights. The room smelled of sweat and upset men. Most of them were still trying to hunt down some gal. I wanted to leave, the image of the place was sad. Very sad, in any possible way. And the worst part was that I was there, a part of the picture. I found my jacket and in no time I was on my way to the student residence. I allowed myself to have one cigarette. Sew me, i don't care, i'm still a non-smoker. I just have a cigarette or two (or more) on days when I'm kinda depressed, or just drunk and stupid. This was a combination of both.

On my way I was thinking, again, about how sad such parties are, so degrating. And I wondered, all this time I've been going to them. Same agenda: drinks, party, dancing, men, dancing, more drinks, maybe a decent guy, getting back to the rez late, hangover next morning. The SAME every friday. Why had I stayed to the same routine almost every weekend since in Scotland. Why? A thrill, meeting new people, drinking, but the main reason was letting all out on the dance floor. Just enjoying the sounds of music and dancing. Just dancing! Yeah, that's why I go back. (Haha, now I know!) So I was walking all alone and thinking, and I realized what I want. The perfect situation that could be. This is what I came up with: I want to talk. Talk with a person who would listen, a person who I would want to listen to. And just say EVERYTHING, that comes across the mind. We'd be sitting on a bench during fall or spring. The weather would be not too cold, but we would have our jackets on. We'd talk in a fairly late evening, the sun would set soon. In front of us would be a view of a city. Any city, but we'd have a wonderful view, just to make it more perfect. We would talk for hours, days if we had to. I really want that to happen, I want to talk, cry if I must, and laugh, of course. Yes, I want to talk, but most importantly I want to find someone to talk to.


I got to my room and drank some water. Had a kit-kat break, hehe. Went to bed and begun writing this post. When I was describing the party, guess what happened. The fire alarm went of. I was considering staying in my room, but the sound was capable of murdering, I had to go outside. Very upset I got on some clothes and was outside. I treated myself with a cigarette, and I apollagized my self when I was done. "Sorry," I whispered. It was cold outside and now the alcohol was no more warming me up. It was about half part four in the morning. I could see in other people faces that I wasn't the only one mad about this.


I'm back in my room now and I think I should get some sleep.


Sweet dreams to all.