Someone like me

It's funny sometimes the way things work; you begin to ponder something and the world steps up to prove you wrong.  After spending hours wallowing in feelings of isolation and inability to connect at all with anyone,  a day or two later I'm sought out by a classmate whom I had quietly harbored respect for and invited to study over coffee.  We didn't go for coffee, but we talked.  We really talked, too. 
 I found in this person a fellow stuffed animal!  Only instead of whimpering confusedly about the loneliness, he sits above the pack-animal humans dipping down where he chooses and working them--  Honesty is important to me.  I try and act on my impulses when at all possible, because I see that as personal honesty.  I rarely lie.  So I have conflicting desires about putting on a facade or hiding away parts of myself.  But perhaps it's necessary for an adequate social identity in a world full of selfish stupid things.
Ahhh!  And then something truly amazing!! But I don't have time now.  

The Conceit of My Life: From the top shelf to the streets.

It gets lonely sometimes being a stuffed animal in a world full of humans.  Even the cutest of plushies is only intriguing for so long, and then becomes a decorative ornament, or something to recall memories from on occasion.  After all, when you can't communicate the same way as a human they will assume you can't talk at all.  Is there an apparent lack of cognition on my face, that people don't care to get to know me?  I look just like them--and I am at first taken for a human usually, I think, upon meeting someone new-- but somehow they can always tell that I'm not like them.  What part of my personality is the stuffing coming out of my seams and giving me away I wonder?  I do try to speak the same language as the people, and can sometimes exchange understanding with them on some level... Well, once I managed to ask what made the difference between me and other females, that I'm not of the long-term quality while others may be.  Know what they said?  That it's because I'm not fearless.
The understatement of the century!  I am practically made of fear.  !!!!! (maybe my fear is my stuffing, it certainly impairs my social skills...)  Ah, anyway.  we'll talk about fear another time.