I began to notice, in my late teens, the apparent paradox that, while others seemed to reinforce their friendships with frequent contact, it seemed to work the opposite way with me: there was just so much contact with me others would tolerate and still look friendly, so I'd better keep the doses small.
Yes, now it's obvious, even to me, that I was the only common denominator, so the conclusion is that I just suck and shouldn't inconvenience people with my unwelcome presence. It's still a complete mystery to me what exactly I do wrong, however. Actually, it's painfully obvious how a lot of things I did when I was younger pissed people off, and I've since managed to avoid a lot of trouble by not doing them. The problem, though, is that my learning has only been negative: I've learned not to do a few things that would make others actively hostile, but my skills to make friends are still exactly zero, with my chances of ever improving in this regard rapidly fading as I grow too old to start doing what others master as little kids.
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The red lake has been forgotten. A dust devil stuns you long enough to shroud forever those last shards of wisdom. The breeze rocking this forlorn wasteland whispers in your ears, “Não resta mais que uma sombra”.