As a teenager, I always felt claustrophobic in a living room social setting with elders. All of a sudden my brain would lock down, and my lips would seal. I could not think of anything to talk, and in the rare event that I did think of something, could not get my lips to move. My hands would not know where to settle themselves down, and alternate between being in the pockets, crossed on the chest and get busy sharpening nails on each other’s fingers. My feet would wonder whether to stay straight or crossed. My eyes would roam from wall to wall, from painting to shelf, lighting fixtures to carpets, avoiding human bodies and faces, especially the two sockets on the top half of the head which held the eyes.
If by some freak chance that did happen, my lips would curl into a smile, as if to say “Sorry, I am brain dead right now, and this is all I can manage as far as communication goes. If you are interested in conversation, please find an appropriate partner. If you do not take your eyes off me and look elsewhere in exactly 2 seconds, blood will possibly rise to my head and spray out through my eyes, nostrils and ears. So please..”