The Evils Of Socialization

I became too hooked into writing a novel;

That I have forgotten all about how to open a bottle

With each passing day the meaning of socializing made less sense,

The pleasure of being possessed by multiple characters within me was immense.

Various personalities gave me unlimited options

One day I would choose to be protagonist

The rest of them made me antagonist.

The day before yesterday I went out to grab a couple of drinks

I convinced a beautiful creature with my mask of pretense

That lady; the innocent soul trembled by the little suspense

"It's the fear beneath which draws you crazy," she pointed

Adamant I was like a struggling writer,

Made the woman disappointed.

Here I was protesting about the evils of social gatherings

A little voice from deep within me laughed and mocked me, " isn't the expedition from other day convinced you to write this piece."?