Introverts are very flirtatious…..
Wouldn’t you love to know what we say to ourselves, how we spoil ourselves, how we look forward to the smaller, finer things.
Whilst you need the attention of the world and everyone to notice you, perhaps endless caressing and consoling before you can be enticed, you’d be happy to know we’d spend a whole afternoon in foreplay with ourselves, walking back home after a long day at work, building up excitement to the fact we’re about to fire up our brain cells and have them tingling on end with excitement. The activity? A lonesome book we found at the second hand book store on our lunch break.
We carefully deal out the teases to our own minds, the slow build up, the tender suggestions until it’s time and you may as well burn the house down, tucked away in our corner, eyes staccato across the pages, eyelashes kissing each other in signal for a page turn, lips salivating waiting for the next line, and breath heavy as our chests heave in excitement as nothing but ink on a page lures us into the dragons lair of lustful engagement with ourselves.
No, we’re not infatuated with ourselves, we just feel a little more, we just pay attention to our inner voices, we nurture them lovingly without need for psychoanalysis and stigmas from quacks, we’re humans, we live and breath the soul of all humans….we’re readers.