Humans.

I don’t know if it was when I saw myself with bed head and prominent pimples in the mirror this morning, or seeing a photo of my gorgeous best friend, but something got me thinking.

Why are people so interested in other people?

Is it because we’re all different?

I wonder why her hair is blonde but mine is brown. Why are his eyes pale blue and his brother’s are so dark of a brown that they’re mistaken for black? Why is she crying? Why is he so giddy all the time? Why does he keep to himself? Why is she so confident?

That’s what leads me to: Is it curiosity that eats away at us, or is it just jealousy?

Am I curious as to why she’s so pretty, or am I jealous that I’m not?

Do I want to know how he got so successful, or do I envy that he is?

It’s almost a thing of “I don’t know if I want to be you, or be on you.”

Sorry, I had to go there.

But, honestly, I don’t know why I think about these things.

Am I the only one that does?

Maybe it’s my insecurities that trigger my curiosity or my jealously.

Maybe it’s the fear of losing myself in trying to be everything or anything that I simply am not.

Or maybe it’s my brain over-thinking everything like it usually does.

 

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