In praise of terrible first impressions.

I never made good first impressions. I was never interested in impressing someone I meet or talk to in the first meeting itself. It feels wrong and against my will, as if I had to make a good first impression — otherwise I was doomed. I’m not comfortable with the level of judging that is involved and the fact that this is all normal. So, I prefer to bomb, I let them judge me and appear underwhelming in my performance. It’s a theatre, it’s a worldly play. I prefer to not play along.

I let myself sweat through the shirt and let my voice choke and tremble and my face go as if it was thrown into a washing machine. That is, until the examination comes to an end, when I realise that I do not care about this at all — and yet that’s what I go through. Not always, not with everyone. It’s anyway strange and funny as hell.

I’m a try again > fail again > fail better kind of Beckett genius.

Date

November 30, 2021

Up next

Snow envy. Ever since living in the Himalaya, I’ve come to envy the mountains because it always snows first over them and not over me, and it snows over them

Previously

The left river. Last night, I slept on my left arm and now it is paining, as if an overflowed river in bones is trying to slam through the flesh, such unbelievable