well, personally...

Our personalities drip from us. They are in the way we walk, talk, and make our sandwiches. My personality extends itself through my curly hair. Davey’s personality gnaws on the world through his crooked teeth. In an apt of four girls, you can almost tell who did the dishes by the way they are stacked in the dish rack. Our personalities define business casual for us. Our personalities dictate what make sense to us. To Silvia, it makes sense to eat Lean Cuisine frozen dinners in order to lose weight. My personality is distrustful of all packaged food, especially when going for healthy. One girl runs at a steady pace for 3 miles around USC. Another girl also runs around USC first sprinting, slowing to a walk, jogging, sprinting and jogging again. Lisa uses paper towels or shirt sleeves to open all doors. Every dance at the Lindygroove was entirely different depending on the guys personal interpretation of triple-step-triple-step-rock-step and skill level, each personality extending itself to me through sweaty palms. Personality is screaming from the walls of the cubicles in this office as each one tries to personalize the grey walls to make is space livable. I have a plant in almost every corner. Cynthia has wall of fame for her son and daughter. Mariessa has the glass frog figurine that she hates, but that her girlfriend gave to her. Frank’s blinds are crooked in his new office, and he has not stopped to fix them. Everything reeks of personality. If I think too hard about this, I feel unfree. I am a product of my environment; everything is filtered through my experiences, my eyes with their corrective lenses. Some people’s eyes have the devil living in them, deceiving them, calling beautiful, ugly and malnutrition, sexy. When I can call that which is beautiful, “beautiful,” and that which is green, “green” and she who has bone sticking out through the skin makes me cry, I wonder how I can carve the devil out of the eyes of those who can not see right. Sneaky little devil making us play games with ourselves, counting calories thinking this is how we will find salvation. Sneaky little devil, counting number with that strange S with I through it ($) thinking this is what will make me smile. This ten minute quick write has changed direction. Showing you what my person is troubled with. Some people have been building castles in the sky for about 60 years with all the pounds of flesh they have never gained, all the food they have thrown up, all the water bottles they have emptied as they have filled their bellies with everything calorie free. They have placed their flag at the top of this mound. The flag is the thin lipped grin stretched across their teeth so painfully, that you know whatever they are laughing about cant possible be funny because they as the queen of their self constructed castle are really a queen of wasted freedom, moldy bread and Splenda © wrappers. She is crying out with awkward statements, truths that she can’t back up but offer as parables. I am taking the bait, but I don’t know what to do with it besides cry.