My introversion is just my inner world having a much stronger gravitational pull than what the outside world can offer. I find it strange that humans feel comfortable making others uncomfortable. If their own comfort were to be disturbed, their claws come out. But your claws are lame compared to what we have inside us ready to burst out in rage.
If you want me to join you in company, your pull better be stronger than mine. Selfish you may call it, I beg to differ, I call it resourceful.
You see, I don’t like wasting time, the mundane interests me not. I don’t need an icebreaker or to warm to the conversations, I’ll dive into them whole but that filter is non existent with me, so you’ll hear nothing but barbaric truth.
In your world, that’s difficult to swallow as you swim, no bathe in the swamp of shallowness.
You don’t have the pull to lure me away from my world, so lest you want to hear things that are uncomfortable, best you let me be.
Don’t prod at me, don’t pass your comments without thought as my tongue is a whip, with a blade on it dipped in poison. I can cut at you in more ways a samurai can teach his pupil.
It’s ok, don’t feel sorry for me, look down on me if it makes you comfortable, rise up to hate if needs be, just be sure that when you’re done and you look around that you have someone else as shallow as you to lean on as I will be long vanished, reclused back in my world, long gone as your world is as empty and gravitation-less as space.