Here’s the thing, Life is acting; For the most part — we’re always playing a part.
At Job Interviews.
That Hot Barista.
Some times we’ve been acting for so long we forget what we were to begin with; so I stopped acting — I realised I was no Daniel Day Lewis.
Spent a lot of time alone and came to a realisation of who I was.
What kind of person I wanted to be, gave it a lot of thought.
It was odd. People didn’t like this new version of me.
It was rude, failing to make small-time conversation, refusing to come to parties, refusing to hug babies, and most of all just humming along.
For some reason that really pissed people off; enough to make up erratic stories about me.
The Award for which goes to the one where a relative of mine called my family to let them know, “I was possessed by an evil spirit and had to go visit some person they knew; who could fix it.”
I called the relative back and asked if it were an acting school.
They hung up.
It’s funny how the happiest I’ve ever been could be monstrous for others; simply because I’d stopped pretending, stopped with the bullshit.
And just once and for all decided I couldn’t fake it anymore. Not for anything.
The worst thing I did recently was not cry at a funeral. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
People think I’m a sociopath. I just felt I had no connection to the human that had passed away.
Let ’em judge.
’Cause I’m not dancing around on a table when they throw their quarters at me anymore.