How Does an Introvert Conform to a Society That Supports the Social?
Go solitary, gel-in with fakeness, or wear a permanent mask?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been a socially shy, solitude-seeking introvert.
That doesn’t mean I don’t meet with people. It also doesn’t mean that I don’t socialize with those around me.
I do all that. Sometimes more. But true respite comes when I’m left to my own devices.
I crave this space that I call my own: my thoughts rustling like fall leaves in a blanket solitude, whispering to me of judgements made and imparted, of connects failed and flaunted, and of ideas experimented and evacuated.
But then this voice comes crawling—was it I who just had a close-up chat, a collective conversation, or a didactic discourse?
Or was it a mask, a shadow, a mirror image walking in my shoes, with my true self receding to the darkest depths of my own world?
The sad part is, I know who it was. I know who it always will be: An introverted cube forced through the recesses of circular socializing.
The Soliloquy of a Conformist Carapace
In a nutshell, I’ve been more than a shell of reserved feelings, broken by a spell when the past catches up in my own hell I will know how hard my ego just fell. In a nutshell, I would rather not tell why people always wonder I don’t feel well, my face a tapestry of thoughts in a swell come on, it’s jealousy, can’t you smell? In a nutshell, I do more than just dwell but the corridor kids call me letter L I’m one big introvert and I never gel detentions don’t help, it’s just timed cell. In a nutshell, where’s the sound of the bell I feel I’m trapped in the corners of eggshell my imaginative lies meet doors of the quell paste one brave smile with standards that sell.
Relatable to the max as a fellow introvert 😂😂