Finding Flaws

Lately I've noticed that I'm a highly irritable person.

There are things that are Okay to be annoyed by, like fast cars that slow down at the LAST POSSIBLE MINUTE on the crosswalk, or your friend blowing you off, or your teacher misplacing your test. And then there are things that are Not Okay to be annoyed by that annoy me anyways - like people breathing too loudly, people changing from how I know them, people forgetting that you exist when there's no reason you are particularly important in their lives, and/or people who always seem to go out of their way to drive you insane by simply acting stupid (or, as they say, "like a ditz"), though they don't know any better.

There are often moments when I wonder if I could possibly have the highest IQ in the world, and that is why I simply cannot relate to anyone. (There are also moments where I fear that I actually have the lowest IQ ever found in a human being and am being convinced of my intelligence in order to keep me happy and, therefore, keeping my uncontrollable primal urges to gut people in check, but that is only vaguely related.)

I am annoyed by people I've known for years who develop new habits and hairstyles when I'm not looking. I am annoyed by people that I barely know who think that they're better than me simply because they've been here longer ("here" can imply a job, or a school, or even this plane of existence). I am annoyed by people who think they're doing what's best. Sometimes I'm even annoyed by people who truly do what is truly best for everyone else, the rare person who cares about someone else - annoyed because I am never going to be like that, and surely, SURELY they have a flaw, somewhere...?!

The only logical conclusion is that the thing that irritates me the very, very most is people in themselves. They also fascinate me psychologically, socially, and mentally - probably because I'm a writer - as well as physically - probably because I'm an artist - but nothing can overcome that urge to just take a step back, disengage, and then go scream into my pillow for a few moments.

This brings up an interesting conundrum.

How do I let new people in?

What happens when I lose my old friends, or when they lose me? What happens if I'm dropped like a hot potato in a sandstorm over a minefield at high, hot noon? (Like that metaphor made any sense.) I'm going to search and search for ways to appreciate the kind of person someone is. Maybe I'll do it, even. But until then, I'll continue to find the same flaws in everybody else that already exist in myself, and the sad part is that I don't think I can help it. And that's a fact.