The first half of my 2010

Time to turn on that sentimental lens once again. It seemed not so long ago, fresh off an autumn term overcast with introspection, propounded in no small part by acid, I arrived in Hampstead during heavy snow, expecting to become some sort of literary university character, a Dean Moriarty of King's College London, soon to have my housemates enthralled by my challenging but informative perspective to life.
So that fantasy persisted for maybe a month, a month and a half. Caused by my late lecture hours the week was spent mostly alone, with some fleeting conversation with housemates. I was still determined that I was an adventurer of life, and in fact I was happy living that way.
Soon though as the months went by I realised others didn't really know me that well, and that my many assumptions that I have held in my life due to my rather unusual past have been major hindrances. I realised I presumed other people were automatically fascinated and attracted to me, seeing me as some sort of revered, treasured person, which nobody is to people other than their family. I realised I had to show my personality, make small talk to make people feel at ease, show that I desire friendship and am not a weird loner.
Further to that, I also realised that nothing is given to you for free in life. If you want friends you have to go put yourself out there, same with relationships or just sex, jobs, even academic success can be helped by engaging with the world.
What is this ideal image everyone has of themselves? No one is perceived exactly how they want to be, so might as well live by some principles, e.g. be kind and don't hurt people, but other than that not give a fuck what people think, as people are bound to misinterpret you anyway.