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I hate myself. I love myself. Either way, I’m self-obsessed. A strange kind of narcissism. I find myself unable to simply be around others. I cannot help observing myself in their responses, and am appalled by what I see. How pathetic and worthless must I seem, for them to slight me in such a way?
The truth is that there is rarely any judgement involved. I am simply another background character in their play, as they are in mine – a dark blur moving briefly through their awareness. I know this – rationally I know this. Yet I can’t switch it off – this hyper-awareness of […]
