listening without the Bubbly

No resolutions this year.  I’d like to learn more, read more,  and write more. But to resolute to do these things seemed silly.

I was standing outside in a velvet dress, post-solitary dance session, post-countdown to midnight, post-many goodbyes.  I suddenly became vicious, maybe the prosecco took a turn for the worse. Did I really have that many?  I began to verbally attack someone with an unsmiling, sarcastic intensity.

I guess if I were to resolute to do something, it would be to drink less and to listen more.  I think alcohol is ugly when we use it to make us more engaging, or to soften anxious thoughts, or to make us indifferent over long pauses in dialogue.  If I could give up alcohol in more than one (perceived) uncomfortable social situation, wouldn’t I learn more?

Listening is something I’m fairly good at on the surface.  I can nod in the right places, I’ve got eyebrow mimicking down to a science.  But I’ve never been a great listener.  It’s all part of the plight of being teased a lot; the only things a person who has been frequently teased hears is the sound of their own voice telling them to appear more normal.  What can I do to appear more normal? Alcohol helps nullify these thoughts, but it doesn’t entirely wipe them out.

I want to listen freely.  Without an inner-dialogue, without the sense that the person talking to me is bored, or maybe they don’t want to be asked that question, or maybe they’d rather be talking to someone else.  I want to be genuine with my enthusiasm to receive information, and happy with whatever moment I find myself in;  without a glass of prosecco, stirring up a bottled up personality.

So alright, no resolutions.  Just learning.

Learning’s a year-round resolution, isn’t it?

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