Sometimes I simply hate people. On occasion my tolerance for feeling like an outcast in my ow skin becomes overpowering. I shrink down within myself and can see only the raw outlines of interactions that engage me. I’m tired. And angry. And filled with this disgust that I think starts with me and flows out from me and into others. I’m disgusted with how I don’t fit in, always the piece to the wrong puzzle. Similar look, but nowhere to fit. I don’t think it can possibly be true, how wrong I fill. I can’t actually be as awkward as I seem in my head. I’m smooth and confident with 90% of people. But that last 10% is just all encompassing. Rage, pure and simple and clean.