Another Place

...where I blog


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If someone asks me “What are you thinking about?”, I genuinely can’t answer them. It’s not that I’m thinking about nothing - it’s more that I’m thinking about everything. Once the question’s asked, what I’m thinking about is: how to answer; the various twists and turns that the interrogation could take; how the questioner will receive the answer; anything but what I was originally thinking about.

I think this is, in part, because I’m a very introvert person. Why do I find it so hard to express my feelings? I don’t know. I have feelings, but they’re internal, locked away. In some ways I like having my personality personal. It doesn’t do much for my relationship with others, though - particularly those closest to me.

Amazing Insignificant Events

On Tynan

Twenty Seven thousand fans are packed into Red Rock, one of the best music venues in the world. The arena is carved from a mountain of giant red rocks. The sold out crowd is watching Ben Folds rock out on the piano.

I emerge from a backstage hallway right next to the front of the stage. A security guard stops me, but lets me pass when I point to my badge. "Working", it says. I'm not working.

In front of the whole crowd, I walk across the stage. Ben Folds lifts one of his hands from the piano, locks eyes, and waves at me. A little startled, I wave back.

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