Absence of Presence

There are people who enter a room causing electricity throughout. Then there is me. I come into a room and everyone yawns. Even the pets. The furniture shrinks away; chairs mutter not here, sit over there.
I have no presence, no gravitas. Ironically, this helps me as a writer. I can be there watching and listening without garnering attention, making it easy for me to create stories and characters. Inside, I am a lava flow of creative juices. But on the outside I simply have no presence.
Imagine trying to create a character based on me. What is my core essence? Plaid shirts? A sensual lower lip? Hairy shoulders? I don't do karaoke or dance. I take no controversial stances. I even vomit quickly without fuss. Never once have I projectile vomited.
No, I'm someone who blends into the decor. But I'm always watching and listening.