Pictures can often say more than words, so look at the photo as I hazard a description and analysis. My father is a sanguine and I’m a melancholy. Vastly different temperaments make for different types of individuals indeed. He’s amiable as could be, always striking up a conversation with a friend, acquaintance, or complete stranger. I on the other hand will be brooding in the corner with a suspicious eye and lugubrious disposition, jealously guarding my privacy. My dad embraces his fellow man with a cheerful expression and he’s hopeful for the future. I already see the red and black skies of the apocalypse appearing on the horizon, and I often wish the “Everlasting had not fix’d His canon ‘gainst self-slaughter.” Laughter is the signature sound from my dad’s lips; from my pie hole you’ll discern the gnashing of teeth. People will walk away from my father with a smile on their face, while I usually leave my interlocutors with emotional or physical pain. Apples and oranges.
