There are seemingly mundane things that mortify me. Unavoidable pillars of existence that will haunt me wherever I go. Being perceived is one of those; the fact that you are observed immediately recontextualises and binds everything you do. Not only are norms and expectations imposed upon you, but it's restricting in another great plethora of ways. Perhaps the truly horrific detail is that even when alone, it is as though someone was watching. Not a person, a concept, one looming in the psyche itself, an ever-present observer that we impose upon ourselves. Even in the absence of such a voice, it's unsustainable for humans to be without social contact for a prolonged period of time; such a venture would result in vast and severe damage to our ever-increasingly frail minds. As such, we need to be perceived not just by ourselves but also by others, yet I am deathly afraid of it.