I possess an uncanny ability to make any conversation seem really awkward, even without the use of words. It's often because I don't really know how to communicate in ways that normal human beings interact, since I must have been born inept of that ability. Alas. Therefore, if I seem to be disinterested, uncomfortable, or fidgety in speech or action during a conversation with you, it isn't because I find something wrong with you or anything - it's just me struggling very hard to hold a simple conversation and small talk. It's rather amusing for me to look back on the day and recount each time I made a seemingly casual and simple conversation into an awkward period of pauses, silence, and jaggedly hesitant utterances that instantly make the other end of the conversation absolutely weirded out.

^ I should totally work on this...

Oh, and I think I was born with a natural tendency to have a scowl on my face as my default expression. So, just as a computer will go to a screensaver during idle times, my face decides to revert to a default "scowl setting."

If, by chance, I am not in a "scowl setting," I have noticed that I tend to stare off into either a random fixed point in the distance, regardless of the fact that I am or not involved in a conversation. Either that, or an imaginary fixed point within 3 feet of me, usually at a downwards angle (like my hands or the ground or my feet) is my eyes' wandering point during any given time. I can't seem to understand the rules and etiquette of eye-contact during conversation, so I often try to avoid any complications altogether. You seriously have no idea how many times I find myself half blanking out at aforementioned haphazard fixed points of gaze both in and out of conversation. And, if the conversation goes long enough, I often oscillate between several points in the distance or in my vicinity, making it look like I'm chasing a bee with my eyes. I'm not, really, but it would be a much better and less silly sounding way to explain my apparent inability to know where I should focus my eyes in conversation.

In or Out

Relinquish the ravishing umbrage of a long-forgotten woe,
The glory of a wondrous blame is never the first to go,
Imperative, yet beseeching, the windless breath of mine,
Cannot hold a limber lute within a flask refined.

I beg of ye to hand me three of careless empty sketch,
Poisoned sore and evermore is but a twig to fetch,
And gazing supermassive, this walloping eye,
Draws me ever nearer with purposed gravity.