Confessions of an Unknown Worker #5

Vol. 1, 2, 3, 4

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For the past week I had a command gig on another station. Upon my arrival to the usual one, a co-worker said how nice it is to have me back. I was bit confused because I wasn't sure whether she was joking or not. It's not that I wouldn't be able to take such compliment with pride, but it was just unusual for her to say that. Especially when I'm searching through my inner files for reasons why others would be happy to see me, and not finding any. Oh well, maybe I'm just blind to myself.

People acting inconsistently fascinates me, maybe it's just that I don't understand them. But one co-worker goes way above my head than anyone else. It has become an obsession of mine.
There is this one lady who's super nice, always smiles back and says hello, yet that is exactly the problem. But before you judge me as a depressed grumpy ass (though I admit I might be little of that too) who's jealous of others' happiness, hear me out:

I actually like happy people, they genuinely lift me up. I think the world truly needs those who shed some light into the darkness where we so often let ourselves get drifted into despite the world improving day by day. But when she smiles at me... it makes me shiver in horror. It's like I'm staring a masked creepy clown. I can barely muster all my strength to give a quick glance to her eyes so that she would feel not invisible, or rather I wouldn't seem like a retard – asocial cripple. I'm not sure whether that makes a difference or not because I've seen her smiling to herself, alone, way too often. In fact, I've never seen her lips pointed down, not even once, NEVER.

One time she turned around the corner to the same hallway I was walking. I fumbled my pocket and scoffed, rolled my eyes, and quickly but subtly gave a gesture with my hand: "not again". Straight A-class theater performance right there. Though I don't know how many times I can "forget my keys" during the day before people start questioning my memory. Maybe I should just say "forgot my jerking off tissue" to give them little something more worrisome to think about. Although that could end up backfiring even more on the long-term. Should never use a quick easy escape with the price of the long-term painted beautiful ugly picture.

Every time she talks, she gives these odd social smiles that have nothing to do with the content of her sayings – just a learned pattern, a means to get the maximum acceptance of others, or trying to please others as much as possible. I could be saying "I'm going to kill myself" and she would still stick in the "reassuring" facial expressions and pre-programmed speaking patterns and intonation. But I don't think smile is the first thing on your wish list to see when depressed, especially when you can't make it into a genuine one even when washed with acid...

There must be a genuine person there, right? Or is there? Why can't I see the normal spectrum of human emotions?
I feel I'm beginning to look paranoid just for thinking these thoughts, that they'd realize how I look at them. I'm getting worried of my observing face. And as such, my own face is shaping into a cage; I began to focus on reflecting myself based on how others see me. I fell for the same trap as she: playing into the social game and expectations – be it real or imagined – of others.

Maybe that's what people are supposed to do; please others and give them few more reasons to live. Maybe I never learned that like everyone else did. Maybe I'm simply mistaken with everything about me living with another species. Maybe it's me who has been the alien the whole time.