party pooper

I was at my friend’s birthday party last Saturday. I hate parties, but I force myself to go places so I’ll at least socialize. The introvert in me puts earphones on when I walk to avoid conversation, says I’m tired so I don’t have to talk, and makes excuses not to go out. I prefer to be in my own thoughts. Even at parties I find myself talking to a small group of people. I think I can tell who my real friends are, who I’m actually going to talk to when we all grow up. Someone there kept having to talk to me, they didn’t let a minute pass without words–like awkward silences were the end of the world. I don’t know if I’m just being negative, but superficial conversations are pointless to me and I really don’t mind silence. Moments like these are kinda like that quote from Pulp Fiction that Mia Wallace says, “Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it’s necessary to yak about bulls**t in order to be comfortable?..That’s when you know you’ve found somebody special. When you can just shut the f*** up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence. “

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