Tough one to call. Do we need the applause? Do we admit it? Do we sink into despair without the pat on the head, do we act like we are so as to impose? Big egos often cover low self-esteem. I know many people like this. Self deprecation hides conflicts no doubt, but also masks egos weary of boasting to those who may appear shallow or dull in their failure to recognize or live up to our standards.
How do we find the real person within, the act or the actor, the soul of the being? Is obnoxious one really a child wounded and bleeding, or simply obnoxious by nature, is Mister Mouse roaring inside?
For writers and poets, artists and such, we cleave to our characters yet split them apart, understanding them better for being a part of ourselves. A clean sheet of paper–or monitor screen–is but our dancefloor.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology