Have You Seen It This Way?

I'd like to see a prehistoric dawn. Wouldn't you? Be on the look out for one. Take your camera.

I often have to forgive the actor in me. I hope you will do the same. The actor in me is desperate for the invisible spotlight. He seeps up onto the surface and bows to the crowd passing me by on the street. Tipping his fedora, he'll recite supreme poetry out of the deepest pit of memory just to win and woo you over. Now, is this to say that I am never sincere? I hope not. If I am merely a disingenuous fake, I would never bother to spill this onto the internet. I am not possessed by an alter ego. I'm not at the mercy of some clever parasite. But the actor in me is never content to sit in the green room while the audience is shouting for the encore. The actor is me. I cheat myself into behaving how I think they would like it. These spells of madness are very subtle and increasingly infrequent. But if you think about it, perhaps you have a thespian in you as well? I think very few people have mastered such lapses of drama. We must knuckle down and lock down that tendency to be a professional. Do you know what I mean? You might have never felt it. If you haven't, maybe I'm prodding sensitive flesh that doesn't need investigation. But most of us lean towards behaving like a professional instead of being a genuine, flimsy, hilarious human being. Oh Lord, please forgive the actor in me.

Shells

I'm sick right now. It might be a little bit of the flu. Weather Dot Com informs me that Texas is dealing with a widespread flu outbreak so it makes sense that I would have it. And there's nothing better to do when you're sick than to write, right? Write.

You know what I've realized is so ridiculous? The phrase "come out of your shell". Those words are usually aimed and launched at innocent (and often unsuspecting) introverts. Apparently, the popular consent believes us to be crustaceans. I'm sure you can imagine how alarmed I was to learn this. But the vocal majority is blood earnest in thinking that we are trapped in a stifling layer of hateful reticence. In such a crusading spirit of goodwill, extroverts have been trying for millennia to extract us out of our constricting prisons of bashful hesitation. The theory behind such efforts in public education and social gatherings is the belief that what you see is not what you get. A quiet man is really just a loud man trapped in a quiet man's body. He only needs to realize his potential and shake of his laconic shackles.

I suppose, at most, I can only speak for myself. So, let me be frank. I am not bound. I am not a prisoner to my shy personality. I am not a crustacean. There is no wacky, outgoing subconscious in my inner being that is just dying to break out. What you see is what you get. I wear no taciturn exoskeleton that I maintain simply to keep up pretenses. Now, I must beg you on behalf of myself and all those beautifully quiet people out there. Don't force anyone to be someone they're not. No one is trapped.

A Missouri winter is cloudy days without snow punctuated by sunny days without warmth. Truly, it's good to live in this state of misery.