ApeRun

Books and covers…

If I were to judge a Silverback based off its appearance, I’d go out of my way to avoid it…off the strength of its exterior. Which is how I’ve been described by people who’ve pushed past their instincts to run…after seeing my resting b!tch face. Because I don’t give friendly when I’m outside…at all. I would say this is intentional, but I’ve never been able to separate my facial expressions from my feelings. And I genuinely feel a heightened level of disinterest around strangers. Since we live in a small talk society…that I don’t fit in with. But the exact opposite is given…once I’m comfortable with you.

I used to hate the fact that I can’t look at people and tell exactly who they are…at first glance. I can usually pick up on a person’s energy…but if I’m distracted by a face I can fantasize about…I ignore my discernment. Some faces give gorilla…but have the souls of teddy bears. Others give mouse…but have the souls of rats. Which is a play on the nuances of nature. Because nothing is ever really what it appears to be. Being loud and wrong for so long…eventually turned me into an alchemist. And I’ve learned to transmute the trauma from my prejudiced perception…by mixing insoluble emotions…through over analyzation.

Eventually, I learned that the only way to bring back balance…after being tricked by the veil of my vanity…is to humble myself enough to admit when…and why…I’m wrong. This covers my consciousness with an apron of alchemization…that allows me to acknowledge the messes I make…without any of it getting on the parts of me that actually matter. Pride prevents this type of protection. And it sets me up to see what I WANT to hear…instead of hearing what I NEED to see…in order to make an educated decision on what small talks I should allow to turn into long term conversations.

Love,

Choosy