Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini.

A general sense of irritation permeates the air and I know I am not the only one on edge.  Denial, it seems, can only survive so long in the harsh environment of reality. Now it has run its course.  Sick and dying, it leaves those once in its clutches faced with a horror much more potent than any the illness itself ever presented: the truth.   And this is the true weapon of Denial.  The realization of the Truth is paralytic, leaving the victims gasping for breath, choking on the sweet aftertaste, the unmarred oblivion, of their disease.

And so They exist.

More and more I find myself longing for solitude, but it seems as though I am never to be alone again.  It is an aspect of my personality that can, I assume, be difficult to deal with; people do not take kindly to being told that one wishes to be left alone.  They are selfish enough to assume that it is their company that I find abhorrent, when really it is all company that strikes me so.  Sometimes the sound of human speech grates on my nerves and I find the visage of human expression to be unbearable.

I cannot help but dislike emotion.  The expressions, the tones of voice, the natural inclination towards physical displays…why do others feel it is necessary to show everyone what they "feel"?  God, I even loathe the word!  People take the kind nature of others for granted.  It would be just as easy to use someone’s emotions against them as it is to offer them a shoulder to cry on…Not everyone is nice.  Not everyone cares.  There are bad people out there that will not hesitate to manipulate you, and crying about your boyfriend isn’t doing shit.

Maybe I’m paranoid.