On my social "skills"

A confession needs to be made on my behalf. Indeed, my sister was very accurate in declaring me a sociopath once or twice. She was in fact correct. Now, dear faithful reader, don't get me wrong, please. Not that I have just gotten from the psychiatric clinic. This is not the case. However, there are some issues, with which this present blogger (id est me, myself, and I) is wrestling and losing the fight. How to approach, how to talk, and how to engage in a conversation without a fear of rejection, awkwardness, bothering, and intimidating the person, which I want to communicate with? What a loaded question... Sometimes, even the people one wants to approach might feel neglected, maybe even forgotten. Who knows, who cares. Sometimes one just keeps waiting and waiting for the right day to open his or her mouth and just TALK. Not a problem, no issue for a young man to articulate his thoughts in a conversational fashion. Indeed, what an easy task to accomplish. One, two, three... there it is. Not me, dear faithful reader. Wishful thinking is where all those efforts, sweating blood, and internal struggles got stuck. Sometimes I try to stand in the shoes of those ones blessed by my unintentional absence (whatever it means). Do they think I do not care? Do they think I am out of game? Do they think I have something better to do? Oh, how I wish I could read minds of others in those moments. Wishful thinking again. And... listening to cosmic harmonies of Ludus Tonalis of Paul Hindemith, while contemplating on shared anthropophobia, I fear tomorrow. Again.