01.48 really is too late.

I’m the quiet one in the group. Whenever I can get away with it, I’m the quiet one. I like to steer away from attention. But at the same time I crave it – the attention. I want to be the center; want to feel like the world is all about me and my choices and non-choices and about being tailored to my needs and demands. I want the world, almost to myself, while being a fly on the wall. I love to observe a group, see how it changes; who’s the leading figure; who’s feeling the same as I am? Group dynamics is at once fascinating, puzzling and outright frightening. I’ve never learned to master them, and I don’t think I ever will. I rarely maintain my place in larger groups long enough to really get to know it. I almost always fall out of touch with it after a few months time. Being in a large group is such hard work for me. I feel misplaced no matter what I do, no matter how I try to contribute, I end up feeling like I say the wrong things. I crave the laughter of the crowd – which is a much easier task when the crowd is two persons or less. Getting a group of 5-7 people to all laugh at the same stupid joke is hard, and it hurts me whenever I fail. Humor is the thing I do. The days I feel alive are the days when I’m on a roll, when almost every line I say is either a lay-up or a punchline. On those days I can’t stop. I keep going until way past my prime, and I end up feeling a bit sick of myself. I must really have some inner need for attention, or acknowledgement, to do what I do.

Ending it here.

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