Concealed within a body that far outpaced its readiness for maturity's rigors is the mind of the boy I once was: prone to sit or stand, stupefied and aloof, alone in a crowded room, staring wide-eyed at the social morass I have never fathomed and which has always seemed too perilous to wade in.
The Hartman Profile's “yellow personality” description somewhat suits me (inclined to fun), although I test rather evenly between all of the personality colors as well as between the right and left brain hemispheres (acknowledging that the right-left dichotomy has been largely debunked). One might regard me as a creative, sensual, and artistic; an idea man; while another would find me logical, driven by lofty and uncharted objectives, and constantly pondering the meaning of life and things. I am usually playful, mischievous, and secretly preoccupied with adventure. Alas, I suppose some of those preoccupations will have to quaff another draught of patience ere their fulfillment.
I am modest and malleable, fiercely open-minded, and believe my self-evaluation to be neither too high nor too low.
I remain, as yet, detached from intimate associations, though I am abundantly courteous with everyone and make it a practice to deal the same way I want to be dealt with. Being among the weakest of mortals, I aspire to infinite patience and a strong character.