Paranoia

Something is wrong. You sense it before you can think it. The stranger's gaze on the subway lasts too long. The sound behind the wall is not a normal sound. Your colleague's message has a hidden tone. The car that crossed your path yesterday appears again today — that cannot be coincidence. Your system is running on constant current. Every perception is scanned, weighed, suspected. Nothing is harmless anymore. Everything could mean something.

From the outside this may look like a distorted perception. But from the inside it feels like the opposite: as if you were the only one who can still see the truth. As if everyone else had stopped being vigilant. As if you were wide awake in a world that sleeps. That is also why it is so hard to leave this state — because it does not feel like illness, but like clarity.