On Paranoia
People make people crazy. Or so someone once told you. Experience told you it was true.
Humans are fickle creatures--first, they want you then they don't--then they want you again. But not you, just the spark inside your chest. So tasty, that life. They can do all sorts of things with it, too, once they hold it in their hands.
They can fuel self-righteousness, for one (though that's an easy flame to keep going, hardly worth the added spark). They can twist what was once your joy and use it for something wicked, spiteful for the sheer pleasure of putting another in her place. They can conquer small kingdoms (even if that kingdom is just your heart)--and give you nothing in return, only the memory of something you once had. Something you took for granted.
It is so tempting to ignore the wolf in sheep's clothing standing next to you in the grocery store checkout line so that you can maintain the illusion of peace and security. Yet you are always willing to look for the shadow behind the man. That is how you keep yourself safe. At the end of the day, you have nothing to fear of bogey monsters and things from under your bed: it is humans you must watch out for. Tricky, tricky humans.