fly on the wall
thinking myself into holes, into doubts, into worries, into cataclysmic catastrophes that haven't even happened yet. thinking everyone hates me, thinking i drive people away with the neverending stream of worries about every single little fucking thing. reading too much into details that carry little or no information because i have a hard time convincing myself that they really don't carry any information because i suspect that everyone has ulterior motives and everyone is hiding some kind of secret truth behind everything they say because no one ever really says what they mean.
what do they say about me when i'm not around? what do they say?