The Tag of an Introvert

Sins hated the feeling of wasted effort with all his heart. Although, he couldn’t quantify or express the heartfelt angst that tore through his body from time to time when things didn’t go the way he so desired, he was sure that whenever his workload increased his effort with no visible progress, he would feel a deep stab to his heart, like a silky smooth sharpened knife that pierced his heart as if slicing or parting through a wad of glistening warm butter, just the perfect kind of warm, that was apt for freshly baked bread to be coated with it, and Sins could imagine the soft tender layers of butter inside the combination, melt in his throat on its way to the depths of his stomach, from where the butter’s nutrients would be harvested for the functioning of his body.

Sins had long ago stopped feeling at circumstances that goaded him to speak up for something, something that was related to his self-interest and well-being. This lack of feeling translated into a lot of transactional relationships, but no transformative relationships, which was a nice way of saying, he didn’t or rather, hadn’t built deep, meaningful relationships with anyone. He remembered watching a TEDx event that was held a few miles away from his place of residence. The talk was about how Harvard had commissioned a seventy-five old research entitled “The Key to determine Happiness”, that said the quality of one’s life is determined by the quality of his/her networked contacts built over a lifetime.

Sins had been fascinated by the research. Sins felt suddenly exhaustingly sleepy, as if someone had invisibly sedated him to make his brain fuzzy and cluttered. He knew that, in spite of all the wasteful efforts, he couldn’t and probably shouldn’t give up especially when he was just a year old as a strategic sales marketer. He had to get back up again.

He also liked the fact that, he would constantly be working to upgrade his image and language, to eliminate all the clutter inside the mind. He didn’t hate introversion, it was just that it was the only social persona Sins had had all his life. His resources from work would increase, while he would mould his personality as well, a win-win for both sides in their common quest to strive for more growth and progress across every frontier that was possible.

He lit up his marijuana joint, and felt the fumes radiating across his body,

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