Why So Quiet? (stop asking me this!)

Big deal. I have and always been a wallflower. I used to mind when I was younger, which was of course, ages ago. But now it doesn’t matter if people at parties or whatever big gatherings barely notice my presence. Or absence.  People tend to equate silence with stupidity. Which is fine.  I don’t really pay too much attention to what they think.  Often, my thought bubbles are oozing with humor and sarcasm and there have been quite a few instances when they did not translate so well when delivered orally, hence offending “un-likeminded” individuals 

Better to remain quiet and cautious and seemingly harmless.

I do wish these askers would leave me alone. I don’t ask people why they are the way they are…why they’re fat or fugly. I don’t ask them why they make so much meaningless noise… why they’re so loud and crude and abrasive like sandpaper. Better to be a wallflower than a weed… a sandpaper weed.  Yes, there is such a thing, I do so declare.

It is okay to keep silent sometimes, people. I did have the satisfaction of telling one person sometime ago that I simply had nothing to say when she commented on my silence again.

I realized that one of the things that my real friends have in common is that not one of them had ever remarked on my being quiet.  If they did, I couldn’t remember. I only remember vaguely C saying back in high school that my being quiet made her feel uncomfortable (or annoyed. Can’t really recall).

But thanks again, friends.

hollyhock wall


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