Why do we go around acting as though everything was friendship and reliability when basically everything everywhere is full of sudden hate and ugliness?

If I have a stupid day, everything looks wrong to me.

How one can live without being able to judge oneself, criticize what one has accomplished, and still enjoy what one does, is unimaginable to me.

Everything becomes so problematic because of basic faults: from a discontent with myself.

I am no longer afraid to say anything.

What I have always wanted for myself is much more primitive. It is probably nothing more than the affection of the people with whom I am in contact, and their good opinion of me.

I was always looking outside myself for strength and confidence but it comes from within. It is there all the time.