Daperture

Today, I've come to realize that I am far more of an introvert than I am an extrovert. I never missed a beat when it came to answering those questionnaires about one's self. Myers Briggs classifies individuals based on introvertedness and extrovertedness. I would remember that many a time, I would answer the questions in a way that showed me to be an extrovert: the life of the party, attention seeker, energized by large groups. Indeed just a couple years ago, I did possess extroverted qualities. However as time has gone by, I have reverted to a scene that is far more familiar to my younger years.

I live in a world largely a vessel of serenity and silence. I find myself yearning more and more towards the quiet solitude of just being. For many, they seek silence so to lessen the external noise of life that they may listen to what is within. However, I seek silence only to be joined by more silence. My mind doesn't even seem to wander much. I see what others perceive as stimulus, yet I am unstirred. Fireworks, loud music, magnificent paintings, such things that should be pregnant with the seed of ideas, are mostly passed by. Yet it is when someone points out a far deeper meaning that I did not know of, or couldn't have observed with my limited perspective, my eyes are illuminated and I am energized.

My internal energy comes from the meaning that I find in the peculiar. What others would consider stricking is cliche to me and what is exciting to me is typically too unnocupied of a space. Trivia such as, printer ink being one of the most expensive liquids, twice that of blood, does not provoke the strategy of printer manufacturers, but engenders the question, "why would you know such as fact?," not curious of the why, but moreso interested in the circumstance that may contain a frivolous story as to my acquisition of such a detail.

It does get frustrating to find that those I spend the most time with do not seem to care, but make do with my interests with nods and smiles in their affinity for me.

The general excitement of life passes by without as much of turn of my head. Why I am like this, I do not know, but I do know that I am like this. It comes by as rash and selfish. I am typically unexcited with the group that I am with. However, I exercise diligence in engaging in the activities that have been laid before me. Yet, deep within, I know that I am not truly satisfied, and those around me can tell. I feel that there is an anomaly. I am so passionate to a a certain group of people, and yet so vanilla to another. I am content with letting that idea permeate my being as changing the perception of vanilla seems to be without much reward. Who will truly want to engage the mind of Donald? Not many. However, Shayna's discontent with my ambivalent attitude, prompts me to seek out excitement and energy in those things that do not necessarily engage me. By no means am I stating that I do not have fun, but it is true that other activities exist that would interest me more. Such is the compromise of life and of relationships.

I've been told that I only get energized by the things that excite me. I believe this statement is true for all people. Who would get energized by the things that do not excite them? I find that the accusation points more to a selfishness that I do not accept other people into my life. How untrue this is, but perception is reality, and what is perceived is what is true. This is an idea that will need to change, but once an idea is set, it is like trying to take down a concrete bridge. It's far harder than swimming upstream. Thus must be the reason why as people age, they seem to seek the quiet solitude of self and small circle of their closest friends. We find that the judgements and observations of others mean less and less as we become more comfortable with the truth that lies within an individual.