urban myths

Is there such a thing as friends? Does it even exist, beyond the concept? There is people you like and you may see once in a while to share some time, stories, even ideas. Or to laugh and have a beer and hang out once in a while/year. Is that friendship, and if not, what it is? I suppose if I have to ask myself that it is because I do not have any true friends, or I am not a good friend myself, but does anybody, really? Maybe I am just incapable of it, as my test always say //does not play well with others//Still, I wish I did. I wish I were able to go out of the shell. Overall, I think it is selfishness, pure & raw. Mine, of course. I am just not good friend material. I like being alone, I actually crave it once I am in a social situation with people that distress me... //Now I sound autistic// But at the end of the day I do need them. I do feel lonely. Then I start talking to myself, & back, and think too much and never allow myself to do things like I did yesterday, just break the rules, go out and have a beer and laugh and be under the rain and bitch about whatever and talk about how you feel. Nothing happens, the world as it is known does not turn around. Everything was ok and fall in its place after it. But why the fear? What is wrong with me that I do not let myself be happy, or just at least be. Why am I always so stressed out? I am beggining to think I do need friends and laughs and fun and lightness and just get the fuck out of here. But I am much of a scared good little girl who pretends or wish to be bold strong woman. I have fears, and I feel lonely, and I have that sentiment that never in my life has ever let me go: Nobody likes me. This at 32. Another voice within, more quiet & more wise, tells me instead: It is you who do not like anybody, and no the other way around. All else it's a mirror.

o.o

I will keep pondering on this.