I’m the weirdest introverted fuck I know.
Some days, I’ll see people and walk the other way.
Some days, I’ll see no one and wish my path was full.
Introverted. Kinda. Well, yeah.
It’s the one thing I know for certain about myself and the only thing that I just can’t seem to accept.
I hate it. It’s like I know I’m an introvert, but I just refuse to live an introverted life. I don’t know if I enjoy having fun or if I just enjoy being around fun. I don’t know if I like people or If I want to sit in my room and tweet all day. I can’t ever decide.
If I could be invisible part-time, I would be.
But then sometimes I want to stand out like a big ass red dog.
I really don’t know.
I’m not not like this because I want to be either. I just can’t help it. I didn’t pick this shit. And thats what my problem is, I’m trying to escape from who I am and what I was made to be. Life doesn’t work like that. Life doesn’t just let you ‘escape’. At least not without the consequence of losing yourself.
Although Im not exactly sure of what that is, I’m pretty sure of what that isn’t.
What asshole made me this funny and relatable, yet so quiet and shy?
Per usual, life made these choices for me. I haven’t accepted that I don’t get to choose wether I’m an introvert or not.
You are what you are. Period.
The worst part about being an introvert, is that you don’t usually get close to people, but when you do, you put all of your eggs in that one basket, and you’ve always held all of these eggs to yourself because, introvert. But then that person starts to break away from you, and they take all of your eggs AND the fucking basket. Now you have to start over. And because your an introvert, you only have but so many eggs. And over the years your eggs start to diminish because people keep taking them, spoiling and rotting them. Until eventually you don’t have anything or anyone, but yourself. Now your back to square one.
The inescapable introvert trap.
Yet knowing this, I’ve still tried to break free from the introverted clamps of my own mind. Which means I’m at war with myself. Which means I can’t possibly win. I thought this would be considered “escaping a comfort zone”, but is that also what it’s called when you want to escape your own engrained personality?
Maybe this is just another part of the journey in finding yourself. But what if YOU have been there the whole time? And finding yourself is just realizing that
I wouldn’t consider my attempt at an extrovertic conversion to be a complete failure, but rather a necessary learning experience that may have taught me more about myself in failing at extrovertics than I would have known otherwise. (and yes, I made extrovertic up. sue me.)
I have some of my own tendencies- I’m not isolated from the world or anything like that. It’s just that I know that I haven’t maximized my own social aspirations. Maybe it’s because I literally can’t. There’s a lot of questions that I won’t ask, but I’m starting to need some answers.
Maybe I’ll find out on the next episode of Dragon Ball Z.
I am a beast at keeping things to myself. I am the G.O.A.T of not expressing my feelings. My blank, unrevealing facial expression is unmatched.
I don’t want to be the master of introvertics, but I feel like I just might be.
And yes I made that word up too.
Editor In Chief, Keith Haynie.