- My quietness is mostly a matter of perspective. You complain that I’m “always quiet,” but it would be more precise to say that I’ve learned not to waste my energy trying to express my thoughts when you’re around. When a tree falls in a forest and all the other trees are blasting pop music in their ears at full volume… you get the idea.
- Dear cute boy: I am terrified of attractive people. People who seem confident are even more horrific. My ultimate nightmare is someone who seems to have reason to be confident in that they are (inwardly and outwardly) attractive. Therefore I love you more than anyone else ever will and also I am too afraid of you to meet your eyes as we pass. Unusual basis for a relationship, but…
- You will have to cut through a maze of thorns and try every combination of codes before unlocking the door to my tolerance. This is what the most aggressive and stubborn individuals do, and how I got saddled with the few people who call themselves my “friends.” If you really wanted to win my friendship, you would have already won it, no thorns necessary.
- Thanks, but no thanks on the charity conversation about my weekend. I actually do have an inner life that burns bright enough to feed my intellect, unlike this dull scripted interaction you’re trying to initiate wherein you play the saintly popular girl and I play the loser who doesn’t even realize you’re only talking to me to be nice. Actually, if I wasn’t so damn nice, I’d just ignore you.
- Like you, sometimes I worry that I’m worthless, or that I’m not sexy enough, or won’t get the right job and the right house and the right whatever. Like you, I may develop emotional problems or experience psychological isolation because all the silent voices in the averted eyes around me are telling me I’m worthless. What makes me different is that I know I’m worth something inside. It would be sort of nice if other people validated that, but my brain, my words, my music, my talent, my whatever comes from inside, and it’s valuable on my closed market of one. My currency doesn’t translate into your human-ranking, therefore it can’t be melted into a golden calf or fabricated by a color printer. Thanks for listening.
Image credit: By Carl Heinrich Bloch – Statens Museum for Kunst and http://www.kulturarv.dk, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=19218035