'Paranoia' would suggest my fear is irrational. Yet, I know it is anything but. This world is out for me, I am certain of it.
Occasionally, and I mean rather occasionally—maybe only every few months or so—I'll experience spontaneous bouts of what I can only describe as 'grief.' I become certain that there is something or someone watching me, and that that person actively wants to harm me or subject me to some kind of containment. People outside look at me strangely, as if I've done something wrong to them. I haven't, obviously, but they still glare at me I've done something truly deplorable and like they're willing to enact justice themselves. It's almost as if I've committed some kind of crime for being a sub-5 manlet who had the gall to go outside and interact with human beings as if we're the same species to begin with.
I experienced it only an hour and a half ago, which is what brought me to write this. For some reason, and I'm not quite sure what the cause was, I started to feel extremely ill, and my instincts were screaming at me that something was terribly wrong. Whatever was there before had laid its eyes on me again—or, perhaps, I never shook them off...
What did I ever do to this accursed, vile world? Why me, of all people? I loathe everyone that roams this universe.
Occasionally, and I mean rather occasionally—maybe only every few months or so—I'll experience spontaneous bouts of what I can only describe as 'grief.' I become certain that there is something or someone watching me, and that that person actively wants to harm me or subject me to some kind of containment. People outside look at me strangely, as if I've done something wrong to them. I haven't, obviously, but they still glare at me I've done something truly deplorable and like they're willing to enact justice themselves. It's almost as if I've committed some kind of crime for being a sub-5 manlet who had the gall to go outside and interact with human beings as if we're the same species to begin with.
I experienced it only an hour and a half ago, which is what brought me to write this. For some reason, and I'm not quite sure what the cause was, I started to feel extremely ill, and my instincts were screaming at me that something was terribly wrong. Whatever was there before had laid its eyes on me again—or, perhaps, I never shook them off...
What did I ever do to this accursed, vile world? Why me, of all people? I loathe everyone that roams this universe.
