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Oh what world that has such people in it?

It's late, I'm still up. I'm still thinking. I have twenty pictures in my head, at least three stories I could write. I don't do any of this. Why not? What's stopping me? Why do I insist on letting my own shortcomings define my life? You know, no one else sees my flaws. Everyone else likes me. Everyone else thinks I'm an okay person.

So why do I do this? Why do I insist on making myself miserable? Why do I make the conscious choice to pull away from people? Maybe it's true. I'm a snob, and I'm trying to be different.

I don't know.