My existence, to say the least, is very minimal to the outside world, as most of you know. However, I cannot completely rule out the notion of being met by a person or two, which would take a correlated effort on both parties, to have any meeting at a mutual location, where it suits my benefit. It seems redundant, but it’s for the sake of avoiding a potential situation. It would take much contemplation, to get myself out into public. Oh, I so despise it. My life is anything but prominent and any appearance or feeling of stultifying on your part, is a disastrous way of seeing my inner self. When I do appear in public, I tend to have a nattily appearance, a sight of serenity, but that is only the façade of what lays beneath. I assure you, I am the easiest of catalysts you will ever come across. I always come across exuberant, at the beginning…but dissipates as I find myself losing interest. I carry myself as amble as the next fellow, never in a hurry, for that will only raise my blood pressure and almost becomes imperative, that I seek shelter, for my mind quickly gets lost.
It really is difficult to carry on any interaction for long periods of time, with anyone without becoming exasperated. It’s something that I cannot get a hold of. Autonomy works well for me, for the fact of synergy is most unpleasant. I have never worked well with others, in any given situation. It doesn’t suit me nor my character. It is a flaw, if not one of my worst. I’ve never tried to stifle it because it would eventually bring on the pandemonium that I so dearly try to avoid.
I live in a world, within a world…my personal enclave that is my residence. Like most adolescence, I was the assertive type, but somewhere along my late-teens, became of what I am known today…THE introvert of most introverts. The capacity to innovate my life through writing. It has never been my greatest pleasure. To felicitously become the cerebral monster, that is me. It has almost become an obligation that I have made for myself, to carry out the mission of being the unobtrusive self that you see before you. It feels as if I was proselytized to accomplish this very thing, to be the writer that I always pondered myself to be.
It is a one way mirror…I see myself, though all others can see me from the opposite end. The window that I cannot see through. It becomes the barrier that I cannot see past. All I see is my amiable self before exasperation takes over. It is, in my nature, to remain nonchalant, for you…because if we manage to thrown be into a precarious scenario, Lord help us…