Today I speak on one of the various incentives my demon has placed to enhance my introverted nature. In everyone's life, there is the comfortable range of what one is willing to accept and understand. Beyond that, the world is harsh and dangerous, and one is usually very adamant against interacting with said world. Even still, the world encroaches, brushing off the worst of its realities onto the person. The taxes needed to be paid, the constant talk of the horrible state of mankind, the uncertainty of the daily interaction.
The very worst element to brush off onto one's person is that of another person. Because most of life's troubles these days come from another person, or another structure created by said persons (see, government), the introverted soul is baleful at the thought of the meeting of another one, especially if said 'other one' has no such introversion. If you were to lock an extrovert and an introvert in the same room, the introvert would certainly die, and two familiars would exit.
Now, the world of the introvert is such: two computer screens radiate me in questionably safe light, as I soak in content most unquestionably unsafe, from violence, to prostitution, to humor. I have a glass of water, always full. I sit in a chair, and my only discomfort is the overheating of my rump. I control my environment. I have the solid promise from all the glories of the internet that I will be contented for the time I sit at that chair.
The world outside the screens, though, is varied. It has ultiple types of people. I stayed clear, afraid of the erratic behaviors of the world. Then I met people on a one-on-one basis, started knowing people by name. These people with names were “friends”. These “friends” were pleasant. I was smiling. Honest happiness. No artificial screens, lasing my eyes, burning my retinas, requiring harder prescriptions to see. No box, no four walls. The world opened. I had my first real passionate dreams and childish aspirations of flying.
The converse, though, was also present. My dreams shifted from purely fantastical, beautiful, lucid, and epic; they became serious, baroque, noir at times, including more violence, and vague. I began embracing the world outside, and the world inside languished.
I went back to my old world, and now I live in equilibrium. My introverted side gives me my imagination and my mind, and y extroverted side gives me my true pleasure. All in moderation, I say.