I hate to echo Ralph Ellison, but I think that outside of familiar spheres I've become quite invisible.
I've never been the one to chat unless I'm addressed first, it's quite true, so how is it that I can make a complaint? Well, other people are approached by other people nearly all the time-- every day I'd assume. If you contemplate it long enough, if I were the first to address someone, it'd be no different than that someone addressing me. But no one ever does, you see. Really, I see it occur around me, and occasionally happen to me, but nothing ever... sticks.
Now, before this sounds like insane banter, I must organise my ideas to a time line. I've been developing this theory for ages now, months it seems. Some small incedents must first be called to attention, the primary and most unassuming (perhaps least noticeable) being that of "cutting in line". High school being typically classified a hierarchy (though with the considerable size of my school, I sense that there was no distinction by "popularity" as by interests), I find that I could be placed at the bottom, among the pariahs, as evidenced by my amazingly long wait in line for lunch. This could be seen particularly on days when I was alone in the queue-- my peers would, without request, push their way just before me. Worse than this, many times I was abandoned by those I needed to company before my return to my usual table throughout the course of the year. In hallways and in lines alike, I was asked to move for another's benefit, though I was quite out of the way. In typical conversations, no matter how important my input, my voice was no more than a light breeze amongst the gusts.
I had hoped that my knowledge or creativity would be better implimented in a college atmosphere with the thought that a more intelligent class of peers would there attend. My week long escapade showed me differently. The very people I grew to know so well, the people with whom I shared a shower and toilet for a week, have more than abandoned me by the end of the following week. All during the course of my first college experience, whatever input I had was usually unheard or unheeded. There were people I really enjoyed, who, I think, enjoyed me solely for otherwise loneliness. Luckily I have the upperhand, something my new peers have seemed to neglect, that I have always seemed to warrant praise from elders, and thus expect to excel academically. However, as occurred in highschool, many of my peers seem surprised when they see me "break from my shell" (the very imaginary one in which they placed me) and act, or paint, or write. By the end of my high school career, some students even seemed impressed though they had known me for years. I never quite understand why so many expect so little from me, without having any basis for this judgment. I begrudge no one, honestly, for self-service, and I am not bitter, only realist. No one else's word but that of my family or my God can divert me from my intentions, but I'm all too acutely aware of the "short-changing" of my ability, however actually limited it be.
All of this to serve my conviction that all through my life all I need to create any happiness, and the only people to whom I wish to serve, are my mother, and brother, and God and His Son. In my new college life I expect to pay no more attention to social endeavours than I did in high school, with the maxime, "Have your people call my people, because I'm too lazy/tired/sick/angry/meek/inferior/occupied/good to call you first." After all, 6,000 dollars a semester isn't being paid to get me new friends, but to give me a future enough to help supply independence for my mother and brother, to whom I'm more than visible, and to whom I owe so much.
Sorry for the angry rant. I just needed to write it. Sounds bitter, but rarely do I develop good friendships outside the home. And when I do, I rarely get just chats or hellos or how-do-you-dos unless something is needed or I ask or beg or point it out. And Vanity Fair is a dangerous written sarcasm on a sick stomach and caffienated mind. But my point is at least I have people to talk to once and a while, and more importantly, I have life-long friendships with my mum and brother that I can always depend on and contribute to. And best of all a benevolent God, a rock, an alpha and omega for the school days between phone calls home and weekends with family, and even during the mentioned better times.
Now, time to play a videogame with my little brother.