Frisson
Being an introvert is probably underrated. When I first heard of the term, it seemed to describe antisocial loners incapable of intimacy on most levels. There may be levels of 'introvercy' which I learned by being both a party girl and a brooding writer, or sometimes a quiet, fly-on-the-wall photographer. To be still is to know. In other words, the Bartender knows everything, which an old friend brought to light in such a way, as he talked to me from behind the bar. A habit of writing formed with a tiny diary, then swelled into obsessive poetry only a moon-in-Scorpio virgin could write shuttered away in my room for hours with only the sound of music, and begat the kindling for creative fires. Through teen angst, shared dorms, roommates and such, the shuttering had to become more aggressively insular with sunglasses that tell anyone near to not bother me; to beautifully crafted moats of gigantic eternity scarves and hoodies that covered my markedly Oth...