Travelling with strangers is hard. I say things I shouldn't. I hear things I shouldn't. It's painful sometimes, and I know I get hurt too easily—that I need a thicker skin—but I still... Can't. We hit each other's boundaries, scrape off each other's paint.

Whenever I meet someone very different from me, I inevitably compare the world they see to the world I see, and sometimes I can ignore the thought but sometimes I can't: is the way I live really alright?

I like being alone, love being with books and animals (DOGS!), occasionally need a dose of nice people. Loud noises startle me, bad taste hurts my eyes, ugly language lands like a stain... I'm a snob, I have a huge ego that feeds on my deep-seated insecurities. I can charm people if I really put my mind to it, but it's amazingly hard for me to sustain long term relationships.

Sometimes I see the world from other people's eyes, and I sort of see how I must look to them. I tell myself it's alright, that I'd rather be clumsily awkward than loud and inconsiderate, but is that really true?

If it's not, realistically what I can do about it is limited. If it's not true, then I must be resigned.... But I don't want to live a resigned life (hello, ego).

If it is true, and I'm okay, really okay, then I must also be resigned to all the downsides of my human condition: a solitary life, exclusion, a narrow world....

Honestly this bugs me a lot. It seems just very...Very... Hard. Maybe I should have lied and not said what I said. But some part of me believes I'm okay, so why should I lie? Why shouldn't I say what, in my eyes, is? Why do I have... To feel... All this?