I spend a lot of time in my head—imagining, creating, contemplating. I’m content with simply sitting and observing my surroundings. During car rides, I like watching the scenery whir by. I constantly produce imaginary scenarios, characters that don’t exist, and dialogues that will never happen. Judging from my quietness, you may think I’m a misanthrope. Being talkative and initiating conversations is not my general state of being. My need for space is interpreted as rejection, as hostility, as flakiness. I love canceled plans. After intense socialization, I feel the need to withdraw into a quiet, solitary nook of my own.