It’s Just Talking to Girls…

“He who procrastinates, masturbates.” – Unsourced.

Last night was a bad night.

If Friday was a good night because of my actions, then tonight was exactly the opposite. Nothing bad happened, in fact nothing really happened at all.

It was the monthly hip hop night at the bar we went to. Our good friend was deejaying so we got in for free. We stepped in and no one was there, which was to be expected because it was snowing pretty badly outside.

We actually skipped a good friends birthday party at another bar in order to go to this DJ night. We had originally planned to get started earlier so we could go to both, but that just didn’t happen. I hope she isn’t too disappointed in us!

I was already pretty drunk when I got to the bar. I had pregamed a bit too hard. When it was time to go to the bar I was actually passed out on my bed, telling my roommate that I wasn’t going out. I quickly changed my mind, grabbed my jacket and headed out the door.

The bar was pretty barren for a little while, but then a decently sized crowd amassed out of nowhere. No one was dancing, though.

I was pretty drunk and feeling the music so, I just started dancing by myself alone on the dance floor.  Some people followed suit, and it eventually became pretty packed. I felt pretty proud of myself at that point.

That would be the most noteworthy thing I did all night.

The rest of the night wasn’t very noteworthy. I just danced by myself, eyefucked a lot of girls, but never actually pursued any. There were a few that in retrospect I could have easily talked to and danced with, but I got nervous and chickened out. I remember, at one point, standing next to this circle of black girls, and getting the feeling in my heart of nervousness that I get when I am about to do something, but then I chickened out. I remember being totally in my head during that whole period, trying to rationalize to myself why I SHOULDN’T talk to these girls, I just needed an excuse to make myself feel better.

In contrast, I looked at my friend, Crafton, who was doing his thing. Crafton is a total ham, he always has to be at the center of attention. He was approaching every single girl in the bar, doing a little dance or whatever. My other friend said he was on a mission to creep every girl out. Well, if he was trying to creep girls out, then he was doing a terribly bad job, because a lot of girls were feeling him. When we went to leave, we saw him outside brushing the snow off of this girls car. I haven’t talked to him yet, here’s hoping he had a threesome.

So, that night is over.

I can’t dwell on it, I can only learn from my inaction and do better next time. It’s funny, because for as long as I can remember, I have had success staring me RIGHT in the face, and what have I done? Everything in my power to prevent myself from succeeding. It’s really a fucked up way to live a life.

I need to be more present, I need to get over this fear of rejection, I need to basically stop being a pussy.

I mean, after all, it’s just talking to girls…

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