h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I think everyone should visit [Broken link removed by Moderator]before they die. It's beautiful, really. Anyways, I'm slowly realizing that I'd be a much happier person if I stopped doing stuff other than reading and writing. My writing is my passion, and going out so much probably conflicts with that. I went to two birthday parties today, and I went to the Otakon yesterday at the Baltimore convention center. Otakon rocked, in an almost disturbingly geeky kind of way. It was much like a trekkie convention, where people would dress up as their favourite character, though their choice of costume for this was far less limited, as they had the whole of Japanese Animation to choose their clothing from. Well, less limited in way, as most of the women dressing almost universally wore very short skirts of shorts. It's the calling card of most female Anime characters.
Regardless, it was quite an interesting event, and I actually met someone, a girl of all people. She was very nice, and her name was Shauna, though it could be spelled with a w rather than a u. She was not in a costume, so she wore long pants, I think....It's always nice to talk to strangers, even though she initiated the conversation. I'm far too shy usually. I wonder about socialization sometimes... I seem to do moderately well at it, but I always feel like almsot everything I say is trite. Then again, I bet alot of people think that way. Thankfully, I say little, I listen. I worry that people might think I'm rather apathetic towards them, though, when my best response is either "really?" or "is that so? Hmm..." Maybe it doesn't happen as often as I think it does. I wonder if people just like hearing their own voice. If that's so, then I think that stuttering might limit that affection for one's voice, as in my case. Hm, natural selection; maybe I can't compete. Perhaps I brood on this things far too much. It might not be so essential, any of this worrying, as long as one genuinely cares for whom they associate with, as that should be comfort. Still, one misconstrued glance can shatter that comfort.

I hope all of this is needless worrying. At least that will leave hope. But hope for what? In my myopic youth, I had always wished to be well-liked, in the Willy Loman way, I suppose. Having ADHD made that slightly challenging, but now I am, for the most part, at least respected, and I have a great circle of friends. But, of course, there is still yearning in me. My writing seems to be the only answer to that yearning, my writing and further education.
There's much more to life than that, of course . . . being jaded is quite a bummer.
There's a middle way, just like Buddha said. Somewhere between my brain pursuits, and my social pursuits,there's a middle way. Who knows, maybe it's Mensa.