Another late night post. Ya know how those go. Tired.

Sex sort of got me thinking about the upside to being an introvert. Now, I don't know how I come off on this site; that is not for the author to inhale. I know I don't come off as a fatass, this is for sure. Maybe I seem a bit outgoing, or confident with modest tendancies - which I hope. Because that is all true in general. I write naturally in hopes that the fun loving sex machine that I am (without the sex) comes off as natural and as real as the very fingers typing this. So I'm frank. Masturbating since the second grade, yada yada. Shame is not mine to have.

But I am an introvert and I do seem to have a particular flaw which may or may not be masked by whatever confident tone my blog may sometimes deliver. Being that, while not intuitively surprising, I was unexpected to hear Sex's flaw ran deep like mine. This flaw being a particular sense of disconnect from others. A sense of alone-ness, without being alone. Feeling separated, without actually being separated. Sometimes I feel that interacting with others is a game I do not want to play, despite having carved a considerable niche for myself among others, and maintaining good close friends.

It is nothing self-deprecating. I relish in the pleasures of solitude. It helps me feel comfortable in my own skin. Yet it all contributes to the itching I feel when interacting with the typical human being and dealing with that lack of awareness - which is the best way I can put it. Some just get "it". "It" being grander than math or physics or even that liberal hippie philosophy shit. And those who get "it", know exactly what "it" means.

I'm lucky that my love for people trumps my disdain for them, otherwise bitterness and adorable kittens await for me at the end of a solitary road. I just find it to be of no coincidence that often, the more extroverted type have a harder time turning their outward energy in on themselves to explore. But even that seems to be their nature, which is why I still love them. There's a reason for every man's blindspots.

And I understand my generalizations there.

Yet Sex spoke for me as well when she said she needed depth. For me in particular, skipping stones in a pond is fun and all but I'd rather hurl them and watch them sink. Or here's another shitty metaphor. Taxi drivers drive and thinkers think and as with both professions, you're stuck with them for life. I can be charimatic and witty like Mr. Ed, but that's a part-time job. I'm wired for more than just grabassing. I grabass to satisfy my split-personality ego and I do it well, which is why I guess I"m here. There's a whole nother side of me waiting to vent.