List 43 strange things about me

I could start crying when it rings, or smash it or something. Seriously. Sometimes I do (well, start crying. I’ve never really smashed it. I’d flung it on the floor a couple of times, but it survived).

I hate to see it ringing; it’s instant stress. I hate to talk on the phone. I never know what to say to anyone. I have no problem at all talking to people face to face, but I use phone only when I have to, and even than for 30 seconds or so.

Some people, friends, family, don’t understand my aversion, so I try to make an effort when talking to the, do the chitchat thingy and stuff, but it’s not really working.

It just depends on what I focues on in which period of my life. I have went from introverted to extroverted (and back; and forth; and back; and so on; but I know this is not so unusual. But the thing is, it’s not how I BEHAVE, behaviour is a different thing, it’s how I feel, what empowers me, how I recharge my batteries and what makes me actually go on).

I have oscillated between very rational, calculated and without much sympathy to overly empathetic, overly emotional. Also, ratio and intuition are constantly trying to overweigh each other. Everything is just a mumble-jumble of EVERYTHING when it comes to my personality.

If I’m convinced I’m like that, I then AM like that, until I become convinced I’m other way around.

Nope. I don’t think there is a way to make this sound a bit more understandable.

... unless I’ve seen them many times. I will remember their name, most of the things they told me, for years too. I can repeat entire conversations.

But if someone I don’t know well changes the hairstyle, I won’t know them. No, scratch that, if they take of a hat or change clothes or whatever, and I hadn’t seen them enough times before that – I won’t know them.

Let me tell you, this sucks big time. People get offended. People think I’m full of myself, that I don’t want to say hi, that I’m pretending I don’t remember them. Can you imagine how embarrassing it is to introduce yourself to the same person twice in one day??

No one really believes I can’t remember the face and it’s difficult to explain. I end up saying hello to strange people on the street because I think I might have met them and I’m not sure.

I’ve developed a number of tricks, like remembering how people walk, their stance and manner of speech and modulations of voice and whatnot… but it’s still not helping, not really.

Chaos, as in total, total chaos. Dirty laundry all around, various crap and garbage I can’t be bothered to get rid of, perfectly normal possessions on perfectly improper places (socks on the desk, blender on the desk, deodorant on the desk, loads of dirty dishes on the desk, cosmetics on the desk, loads of used tissues on the desk, rocks from the seaside on the desk, cough medicines on the desk, roll of toilet paper on the desk… EVERYTHING on the desk. So many things that I can barely see the desk. I’m not exaggerating. And I won’t even begin to mention the floor. Or the chairs).

The thing is, I don’t mind it, I don’t feel guilty about it, I don’t want to clean it and keep it tidy. I LOVE it. I love my chaos and my garbage. Without it, everything would feel so… clinical. And naked. And unnatural.

I don’t dust either, if I absolutely don’t have to. I just don’t mind the dust. I mean, it’s just dust. What?

I don’t notice it. When the stuff begins to clutter everything so that it becomes impossible to function, I just move it back and make a little living space :)

Not as in ‘it feels empty to not have the music playing in the background, blah-blah’ way.

When I’m without music, I get edgy, twitchy, cross, very very irritable. I could kick someone. My mp3 player died a couple months back, and I don’t have the money to buy a new one right now, so I’m using an old one. It’s battery sucks bigtime. It has a tendency to get empty midway through my day.

When I’m forced to be on public transport without my music, I feel very, hmm, exposed to the reality, to people, to the real world (as opposed to dwelling inside my head when I find myself in a situation like that and I have my headphones on). I hate the feeling of being exposed like that. A book doesn’t help, for some reason. A book AND music, yes, perfect, but without music it’s just no use. It’s weird. It’s just like… I can’t deal with everyday situations without my tunes. I just can’t. As in, seriously CAN’T. Anxiously can’t. Depressedly can’t. My nerves are so tight if the music isn’t blasting that I just don’t know what to do, except kick someone or cry or whatever.

I don’t have a problem of being without music in a social situation. Somehow, that’s all right (although it’s always better with music).

It’s like a shield, a barrier, and when I’m without it… Well, it’s just not a happy thought.

I’m also very obsessive to what I listen to and when. It’s not just that there have to be the tunes, it’s about WHAT and FOR WHAT. I always know EXACTLY what I want to hear, and if I don’t hear EXACTLY that, right then, I get edgy. I long for it. I PINE for it. Oh well. On a party or in a pub I’d literally DIE to hear some of my favourite songs (not likely to happen, unless I play them). No matter that I can hear them whenever I want, at home or on the headphones, I want them THERE and THEN.

Also, music somehow helps me express and deal with my emotions (both complicated, when it comes to me). It acts like some kind of catalyst of my life, a thing that keeps me in balance, and without it I’m just… fucked up.

I even took up playing an instrument, although I have a very average talent at best (and when I say at best, I mean at best).

Can’t live without it. Literally.

When I was a child I used to play a lot of computer games that had dungeons and dragons type stuff in them. I used to lie in bed at night while I was waiting to fall asleep and fantasize about being in a world of swords and magic. In my mind I created this whole world and I used to imagine myself fighting monsters and things like that. I still sometimes think about it as an adult.

The fantasies became more and more weird as I grew up. I am usually not scared of posting strange things about myself but what my fantasies have evolved into is so incredibly strange and screwed up that I wouldn’t dare tell anyone about them other than what I have said above.

I have 3 pens. They are all black. A normal person would just have 1 pen since they all write the same.

Here is what I use my pens for:
Pen 1 – Writing things in my notebook. This pen can’t be used for anything else.
Pen 2 – Writing in my diary and writing when I am learning a foreign language. I write my diary in Spanish so that is why the pen is shared between these 2 things.
Pen 3 – General use. Anything that is not covered by pen 1 and pen 2.

Now here is the very strange part. Pen 1 is the most sacred one to me and I consider it to be the cleanest. I try to wash my hands every time I use it. Pen 2 is semi-clean and I try to make sure that my hands are clean while using it but it doesn’t matter as much as for pen 1. Pen 3 is considered to be dirty because I don’t worry about if my hands are clean when using it and also because other people are allowed to use it if they need to. I think I would have a heart attack if anyone touched pen 1.

I sometimes go through the adverts for clothing shops and I look at the clothes for women and I quite fancy the idea of wearing some of the stuff to be honest. I like the tight shirts and pants but I don’t really like long dresses or anything that looks like it came from the 50s. I wish I could buy some women’s clothing and wear it even if it is only to satisfy my curiosity but how do you explain to the people in the shop what you are doing in the women’s section.

I do realize how incredibly strange it is but I didn’t choose to have these thoughts, they chose me.

I don’t really have much control over my facial expressions. When I am happy I look angry and when I am angry I look happy and sometimes when I am happy I a look happy and so on. I give a lot of people the wrong idea about what I am thinking.

My eyebrows move a lot when I talk to people and I don’t have much control over them. When I was at school there was one guy who didn’t like that I moved my eyebrows at him all the time so he beat me up. I think that I go around moving my eyebrows at women and giving them the idea that I am flirting with them in a way when I am definitely not trying to do that.

My eyes go open very wide quite often while I am talking. I have noticed this because people mirror the reaction when they see me doing it because it is a natural instinct to react to it. I never specifically try to open my eyes wide like that but it just happens without my control.

My inability to smile and frown properly has made a lot of people angry with me. Sometimes I frown at people without knowing it and then they think that I am angry or don’t want to be around them when that is not the case. It is only the few people who know me very well that don’t take my facial expressions as what I am really thinking and I am able to get along with them just fine.

I have a hard time controlling my voice and the way I speak. Sometimes I have a very high pitched voice and other times it is very deep. It seems to change depending on who I am talking to but I don’t have much control over it.

I don’t speak very loudly I have often been told. I don’t like attracting attention to myself so that is the reason.

I speak in a very strange way. Sometimes people think that I am a foreigner but it just depends on the situation. When I am a in a situation like when I have to say a speech then I speak loud and clearly and it all sounds normal.

I used to go for speech therapy when I was a child. I think I still have a few problems that were obviously not fixed.

I don’t talk to people very often. I think that not talking much has made me lose my ability to speak well. I often have trouble stringing simple sentences together.

Learning all those foreign languages affected my grammar in a bad way. It has made me think about how illogical the things I say are in my own language and has made it difficult for me to speak it.