(no subject)

Watching Bryan practice reminds me of all the seemingly excessive excellence I ascribe to the people closest to me in my life. Because of whatever default misanthropy I harbor, I assume I've invented the extreme qualities of my friends, and then when close interactions resume I am pleasantly surprised that I didn't. He's hard to talk to, yes, and occasionally oblivious in surprising areas, but he's smarter than me in ways that are usually inspiring rather than discouraging, and it requires no little suspension of disbelief for me to watch him play, even casually, without framing it in terms of elven elegance or angelic grace.

( this turned into a little bit of an egotistical essay... rant... thing...  )