Its what I got called a few days ago. Funny but an apt description of me I guess. I speak much lesser than what goes on in the top floor of my frail anatomy most often. Some say am observant. Some call me lost. Some say I pretend. Some say I am mean. I know am honest. I know I listen. All the time. Onions are hard on the outside. Layered. With each layer revealing a new side. Not disappointing. But depending how you unravel each layer. I am an Onion.