33. I guess it's ironic, I don't know. Maybe it's just a little awful. There are people in the world who are really amazingly skilled. There are people with talent that will take your breath away. As for me, I fumble around with a few tricks up my sleeve. My greatest actual talent is probably something cognitive, like "being able to sort out, understand and describe complicated things." That's good, I think, though it's not the sexiest of skills. Besides that I also clunk around with a a few modicums of talent. I can copy photographs into pencil drawings with some skill. I can sing a little. I write a little. I'm not, however, an artist of stunning skill in any of these creative endeavors. That's okay. I do well enough to entertain myself.
To develop the point to which I'm getting, I'll introduce this idea: Don't you love the people who are really, really skilled, true artists, who are also extremely nice and gracious in dealing with people who are less skilled? People like that are amazing when they are sincere. People who encourage and try to bolster the confidence of others, even those aren't particularly talented, are beautiful. People like these seem to genuinely enjoy watching people give their best effort and put themselves "out there." I love people like that.
I also admire the people who will risk humiliation and embarrassment to try new things even when they aren't good at them. Some people just throw their shortcomings and imperfections out in front of everyone saying, "Here I am. This is me. I know I'm not the best, but I'm going to play along with everyone else while I still can. If I don't do well... well... at least I didn't just sit on the sidelines bored and scared." People like this are also beautiful.
Here's the point to which I'm getting: I'm not like either of those kinds of people. I can hardly stand to watch someone do something if they aren't good at it. It makes me sick to my stomach. I cringe. I have to turn away. I also avoid any situation where I feel like I'll embarrass myself. I just sit on the sidelines. I don't dance. I sit beside the pool, dying to swim, and I read a book. People, beautiful and ugly, thin and fat, are having a blast at the beach, just being themselves. Not me. I let my insecurity rob me of experiences. I always have.
That's okay. We all have our little flaws. I don't like this thing about me, but I've accepted it.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
