I just had an interaction with my roommate and boy oh boy!
I went back to my room amazed at my (dis)ability to overshare. It almost feels like everything I have experienced is on sale.
And I’ll be giving advice, son. Addvice. Good thing is that midsentence I realize a good old truth: I don’t know shit, I just don’t.

Fortunately, this usually happens with people I have a social contract with, and not people with whom I truly connect.

But it’s still somewhat devastating afterwards. Like who is the person that says and does all these things that I don't actually like while I'm watching uncomfortably from the couch?

I should learn to deal with it better -step by step (towards the door)-, as opposed to not leaving my room. Ever.
I suppose.
Don't know.

2018