Don’t tell me that I’m a book that you haven’t yet read. Don’t talk to me as if you’re trying to get under my skin, manipulative in you words, attempting to predict my behaviour and thoughts. Don’t make known your impressions as if you are right because you know nothing from talking to me intermittently for the summation of less than half an hour and being around me (if we count our physical proximity) for another three hours when I’m not even in the right state of mind. My quiet moments don’t make me a Quiet Person, just as my tendency to talk and sing doesn’t make make me an Entertainer. I am both, I am neither, I am many things. It’s a shame you crave control (we all do to a certain extent) and can never see the bigger picture; you see people confined to the lines you have drawn.
You’re right, you haven’t figured me out yet. I wonder if you ever will- I surprise even myself.