Sleepwalker

It's so difficult to be in society. To just have conversation. To remember how to make eye contact, or shake hands, or smile when something says something that fits into the category of "funny" or "nice".
It's scary out there in the world, outside my hotel room. I love New York and all it's people, yet when I'm forced to interact with those people, struggles appear.

I've always been an extremely social girl, never having problems with making friends. I could go up to anyone and spark a conversation easily. Depression changed that in me. Not only do I no longer possess that ability,  but even if I did, I no longer desire to do so. Whether or not I have friends does not matter to me anymore. So I stop trying to make them.

I am a sleepwalker, with the incapacity to dream.

Everything is hazy, nothing seems clear or exact or defined. I don't remember conversations I had with people in passing, I barely even remember the ones I had yesterday.
I'm not present.
I'm not here, in the now, in the today, in present time. I'm back there somewhere, or at some point up there, or over there or under there or just there. But never here.

Not being in present time means missing everything that happens. Literally, everything. Sometimes I zone out so much I have no clue as to what happened in the past two minutes. I wasn't there, how should I know what happened?
How should I know what was said or what I said? I wasn't there. How should I know?

-Beaskie