It becomes easy, after a time, to imagine that you are neither complicated nor messy; that your own little unit of human currency is clean, crisp and unfussy. You know your own system; your language is reasonable; your habits pristine. But numbers easily prove you wrong; add more people to the mix and you quickly realize that, out of context, your lines blur. You become aware of how often your demands, the silent ones, veer off into childishness. Your inflexibility, intolerance and snobbery dance around you gleefully, unbridled.
Pushing past your ugliness, you force yourself to forge a new path. For what other choice exists? You have so far to go.