Everyone's watching you, but no one cares. They're judging you and labeling you, but stop complaining because it only matters as much as you think it should matter.

“Why does everyone expect me to be perfect?!” you whine, like the immature brat you see yourself as. No one expected you to be perfect, stupid; they just expected you to be less of a loser.

Loser, you're sure that's what you are, and the insecurity leads you to paranoia. You look at their faces and you know that annoyance and disgust lie just beneath the surface of their calm features. They're pretending not to despise you, for some reason. You know your view is skewed somehow, but it's impossible to see clearly through the foggy confusion.

Maybe you're going through a difficult time in life, maybe you're dealing with some specific and temporary issues. Maybe you're just fucked up.

Fucked up, you determine when you look in the mirror. And you begin losing hope that it will ever show anything beautiful.