And I have no pri-va-cyyy!
Alright! Post two, and since my first was about horror (ish), I thought it would be appropriate to talk about my paranoia next. Strange thing to talk about on the internet, but this is my blog, and I say what I want. That’s why I created it: to say what I want. .___.
First off, let’s explain paranoia. It’s when you experience deep distrust or suspicion about something, usually other humans. Or, in a more common form that everyone knows about, that feeling you get when you think somebody’s watching your every move. Even in the shower (But that’s only if you’re suffering a more…severe…case of paranoia).
I suffer a case of paranoia. I want to say “mild” but I can’t. You’re not a very good judge of your own self, did you know? Like those skinny girls who complain about their “excess fat” and you’re like =__= the whole time. But anyway, I do suffer paranoia. It’s been worsened by the fact that my step-dad decided to put cameras around the house to capture burglars, but it’s actually me they’re getting to. I’ve had dreams about them. (DUN, DUN, DUN!)
Paranoia in my life occurs mostly in objects. Usually things with eyes; posters, pictures, toys. If it has eyes, it’s a suspect. Suspect for what, you say? FOR SPYING. That picture of that hot boy band could have hidden cameras hidden in the flat eye sockets, melded in with super advanced technology! And that teddy bear’s eyes! Just marbles, you say? Bull shit! There are cameras cleverly stuck there instead! Somebody’s watching me, and I have a good idea who.
Suspect #1: the person who gave me the offending object. Suspect #2: the person who sold the object to the person who gave me the object. Suspect #3: that blue face dude who stalked Rockwell in the music video.
That’s right. If you’re nice to me and give me gifts, I will look at you weird for several days. I will stare at you and wonder what you could gain by spying on me. “Oh, loophole,” some of you think. “I’ll just give you a present that doesn’t have any eyes or face-related features.” Nope, sorry, my paranoia is stronger than you think. Even if your gift is just a goddamn pencil, I would stash it somewhere out of sight until I feel that it’s been “neutralized.” In other words, when “new” becomes “old” and I consider the object part of my possession now and not as “a gift from that dude/girl.”
Normally, in a book or TV show, this would cause problems. The gifter comes over and sees his present shoved under a bunch of books like it’s meaningless trash and gets all hurt and huffy about it. Fortunately (?) for me, my parents are freaking tightwads. Friends rarely come over, even for projects. It’s only at the mall, park, library, and school. And so, with the gifter kept at a nice distance from my house, my paranoia is safe to fester and grow. Win for all. -___-
Oh yes, I forgot to mention: I’m a teenager. That’s why I’m still with my parents. Just to ease your confusion. :\
Passionately Jumbled 