Whenever people (mostly complete strangers) declare me "pleasant," I feel like I've been caught in a lie, but only by myself.
I'm not openly hateful of the people I'm around, but sometimes in my everyday life, my smile and sing-songy voice is rehearsed and reenacted over and over to preserve my good standing with society.
Society continues to not care about me for the most part, but that doesn't mean I can appear the slightest bit rude to them.
When I falter (and I often do) and my facade falls, I feel bad that anyone saw anything. If I don't falter, that can be a good thing, but sometimes that makes me feel worse.\
If I die and people don't mention any of my other accomplishments and just keep on calling me "pleasant" and "nice" over and over, I might be glad I won't be around to hear it. It might sound like the makings of a wasted life.
I'm not openly hateful of the people I'm around, but sometimes in my everyday life, my smile and sing-songy voice is rehearsed and reenacted over and over to preserve my good standing with society.
Society continues to not care about me for the most part, but that doesn't mean I can appear the slightest bit rude to them.
When I falter (and I often do) and my facade falls, I feel bad that anyone saw anything. If I don't falter, that can be a good thing, but sometimes that makes me feel worse.\
If I die and people don't mention any of my other accomplishments and just keep on calling me "pleasant" and "nice" over and over, I might be glad I won't be around to hear it. It might sound like the makings of a wasted life.
No comments:
Post a Comment