A message from a drained introvert who is tired of being forced to be fake.
| Another version of introversion
From the first arrows of the sun's rays to the fire red horizon of the sun set,
Through the chilling cold days, hot holidays, Woza Fridays, always in your closet.
Preparing tantalizing meals, smoking, and pickling eels, you rely on your own skillset.
Immersing in romantic movies, fantasizing in SUVs, in reality l can assert,
that loneliness is your own, only outstanding asset.
A music fanatic, vibing to every sound on the track, only hating the sound of the doorbell.
Lying about your business to avoid company; invited, you always have excuses to tell
You frown when called before being told, ringtones make you scold Alexander Bell.
Quiet like a silly sick sloth around people, but when alone, head over heels like a gazelle.
It's only me who knows the number of stories you don't tell.
Dinosaur to your antagonists, you're extinct, they don't understand you, you're indistinct.
They don't understand why you ride solo, never seeking ideas, only relying on your instinct.
However, they are awed by your ideas, your descriptions, so distinct, so succinct.
They want you to be like them, to speak at the same rate that you blink and wink.
I encourage you to stay you, quiet and still, like the queen in a sleep, let that sink.
Barking dogs seldom bites, thunder is slower than light, loud wrestlers rarely win a fight.
Noise distracts the thinking train, A said answer doesn't mean it's the one that is right.
Being talkative, socially active, makes you authoritative, but will that solve a plight.
They're full of clutter, full of partying memories, no space for productivity, no bit nor byte.
Don't harass the introverts, they are different but that doesn't mean their future is not bright.
I am proudly an introvert, no pleasure in becoming an extrovert, I'm out.
Tinotenda Rodney Alfaneti