The Boy who Knocks #1

Everybody is laughing now. My punchline is killing them. I’m talking about my relation with my parents, with a little bit of exagerration. And they are laughing. I think it’s true what a comic usually say: it’s the hard truth that make they laugh. They laugh because they agree.

It’s just an usual conversation everytime I met people. I’m the joker. I’m the one who always fill the conversation with jokes and comedies. I dont know. I feel like it’s my responsibility to make people laugh. Or not. I think I agree with that therapist from F.R.I.E.N.D.S : when people laugh because of me, I feel loved.

It’s 9.00 pm. Everybody  is looking at their watch now. Why the hell everybody is using watch, except me. They are not laughing anymore. They just smile with a little bit proof of grinning. I think they are bored now.
“Well, it’s getting late. Let’s go home”, Finn says in silence between my talk. Everybody agrees.

Huh.
To be honest, I still want to hangout a little longer. But they all looks exhausted. And they all are looking me now.
“Yeah, let’s go”

Being an F guy from MBTI, I can’t help but wonder, did I do/say something wrong? Honestly, I always wonder if I talk too much. I wonder whether I give others turn to talk about what they want. But, hey, I know I do. I always ask them with questions. And I often take a break. That’s their opportunity. I do stop talking sometimes, just to give them a moment to fill the conversation with something different. But they dont. Oh, did I wait too short?
Err.
I hate my mind. He, and yeah I personify my mind as a guy — specifically a boy, always manage to question everything to me. Do I? Did I? Am I? Anything. Questioning my self. He always do this. I want to get away from him. But He manages to find me everytime after I left him.

Damn it.
I hate this. This is exactly why I like to talk. I always need a distraction. Because everytime my mind is not on something, the boy knocks and ask me something. And maybe, that’s why I have this urge to always fill the silence between my conversation. It’s not that I’m nosy or something (wait, am I? Ah hell no, damn my mind!). It’s not that I’m not comfortable being silent with you. I just need a distraction.

A reason to keep telling the boy, “I’m sorry I’m busy now, can’t play with you right now”