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.