Regardless of how much I wish I didn’t care about what people think of me, regardless of how much I know I shouldn’t care about the thoughts of people I think rather lowly of, I still care. Is it that strange?

I’m ashamed to say that I’m affected by this. I’m affected by things that I should be above… Like being disgusted to the point of physical illness of a dirty, polluted stream of water though you’re simply looking down at it from a bridge. Like becoming sad when you’re watching something that’s only on telivision… Things that shouldn’t effect you at all that end up bothering you in your daily life.

I know I shouldn’t worry, I know I shouldn’t care… And strangely, a part of me really doesn’t give a shit anymore… But there’s always that tiny little nagging feeling in the back of my mind… The knowledge that I’m hated by some, and disliked by many.

At least I can find solace in the fact that I did at some point evoke a stronger emotion than apathy from some people.