All we do is talk, talk, talk.

A hard thing about adjusting back to the states is trying to figure out the person you are. Am I the person people remember me as? Am I who I was in Japan? Am I the things I did abroad…oh shit.. why did I do a few of those things?

Something I’ve noticed about myself lately is simply, talking. Before I went to Japan I hardly talked much unless I was spoken to. But in Japan, in order to make connections I pushed really hard to talk more. And I was lucky because with all of the diversity in Japan, we didn’t have meaningless conversations. We would talk about the world, ourselves, dreams, and of course sarcastic, usually sexual, inappropriate banter. But I hardly ever remember saying many bad things or judging someone for the sake of conversations.

But being back in America I just want to talk to everyone, but the conversations aren’t the same.

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Back here, I think in part, also being surrounded by women, (I’m sorry to throw gender on it, but typically yes, females talk catty), most conversations only seem of any interest if people are gossiping about others.

I always think… Well just joking around is fine, because on the inside I do really feel that people can live how they want. Sometimes I think it’s fine to talk and give an opinion. You can’t help if you just dislike someone, even if it’s for no reason.

But just in general, I guess it mainly bothers me if someone talks bad about my friends. And I do have a friend or two in particular that get most of the harmful words. And I always feel so hurt. Maybe because I see a lot of similarities of those people inside of  myself. Maybe I take it offensively because I feel that if these people are saying such bad things about the people I care so much for, that must be how they feel about me too.

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Also because I’m defensive for them. Because when you feel like you know someone’s true self, you hate when they are judged for what they portray on the outside.

Have you stayed up all night and talked one on one with the person you talk so much shit about? Have you heard about how they grew up? Have you listened to their fears? Heard their dreams? Shared the first time your hearts were broken? Asked random questions? Etc.

There’s only so much we can see on the surface of everything. Often times people see me, walking on, randomly sitting on the ground. From a distance I think a lot of people think, “what the fuck.” But come a little closer, I’m just saving a bug from people’s careless feet.

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I try to look at everyone that way until I know them more. It’s easy to look at anyone and think, “what the fuck.” But it’s not as easy to take the time to hear their story. I want to try to remember more of that side of me. Even if I can’t talk easily to people here in America, I don’t want to talk aimlessly.

I want to remember the conversations with the person I hated. Staying up all night while everyone went to sleep to swap stories and share secrets. Sharing hardships. And becoming to understand one another without ever having to say a word.

If ever I dislike someone, I hope one day we can have 2 a.m conversations.

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