I'm sensitive and I'd like to stay that way. Everyone probably already knows this. All they have to do is ask and I roll up my sleeve and reveal the place where I wear my heart.
If you've already been privy to what my heart holds then it somehow takes hold of you. It must. There is no other explanation for how those people shy away from it. They must be careful with this man lest they break him.
Am I really that weak? Am I not a grown man who has been broken before? Am I truly teetering that close to insanity that no one wants to be the one who drives me over the edge? It is true that I bottle up most of my emotions, negative and positive. I must, so that I do not unleash my passions unchecked. This is the curse of the passionate man. This also causes me to dwell on those emotions. But never have they become too much to handle. Never has that bottle become uncorked. It never has and it never will.
They say that bottling up those emotions is unhealthy. That they eat a man up from the inside. Am I then a hollow man? One big glass bottle of pent up emotion? I laugh at this.
So it is that I am either too close to insanity or too sweet to sour that things are hidden from me. The truth, no matter how hard you hide it, is still the truth. Is it better to reveal it and deal with it? Or is it better to conceal it and reel with it? I guess it is always easier to ask for forgiveness than it is to ask for permission.
I am great. Not because I think so, but because others feel they must tell me so. They have nothing to gain by telling me such things. They are not trying to get into my pants. So I must believe them. If it is, that I am so great, then it will not be long before someone realises this. Someone who would want to have me all for themselves. How great would that be? To have someone pursue me as much as I them?
I thought I had that kind of thing happen to me recently. It was an awesome sensation. Cloud nine and all that jazz. So what the hell happened? I doesn't make a whole lot of sense. The answers don't match the emotions. Something else has occurred. I can't ask because I am tired of not getting the whole truth.
I am a great man. Someone will realise that and I will be powerless to resist her. Just as she will be powerless to resist me.
So it is that I cast this glass man against the walls of the unanswered and unasked questions. I sweep up his shattered remains and throw them back in the fire. I blow him back up in the same form he was before. The Man of Glass reborn!
I am sensitive, and I am going to stay that way.
