We Are Not As Invisible As We Believe Ourselves To Be

Recently while looking something up on an astrology site, I did a double-take because I saw a familiar pic being used to decorate a post. The pic was one which I had taken as part of a personal project to photograph my astrology chart.
There was no credit given on the pic, but I didn’t mind too much about that (I mini-minded about it, not a biggie), this is the internet.
What did strike me about it was how much I still think of myself as being invisible. My pic being used gave me a surreal moment – it made me feel visible yet visibly invisible. I was partly happy about it and partly unnerved by it.
In today’s Daily Post prompt – Happy Radars – they asked – Are you a good judge of other people’s happiness?
That prompt reminded me of this old post, because although I didn’t mention it in the post, something which I did mention in the post, which made me happy happened to make someone else unhappy, which then made me feel conflicted about my own happiness when I found out about their unhappiness. I couldn’t really understand why they were unhappy… but I did my best to work things out.
People, ourselves included, are complex.
Feeling invisible sometimes makes me happy and sometimes it doesn’t, sometimes it’s a bit of both, a moment of simultaneous fleeting happiness and unhappiness.

An Upturned Soul

The title of this post comes from a tweet I wrote the other day. Which came from a post I wrote on the day that Oblivious (by Fernanda Suarez) pulled me out of oblivion on tumblr and rocked my world with a huge dose of the awesome unexpected.

Today when I visited Twitter I found that the tweet had been made Tweet of the Day by a very lovely Twitterer. I did a cartoon double-take with sound effects, then I felt so overwhelmed by the gesture, so tenderly touched and loved, that I wanted to hide and savour it.

I never know how to behave when people give me a compliment, do I hit them and tell them to get a grip of themselves or do I hug them and shower them with kisses.

I often read tweets and wonder what is the story behind them. What inspired the words…

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