the day started out nicely enough; it was overcast with intermittent showers, breezy, and above all else, cool. It was the kind of day, the climatic conditions, I live for.

But then, suddenly, when I had my back turned, Mother released the varocious heat beast: a large, oppressive, snarly, perpetually ravenous large toothed animal set to devour the energy and zest for life of anything living.

Well, at least, the will of this living being.

I managed to snake my way through the afternoon, driving in the car with the windows down and still feeling as though I was suffocating, as though there was absolutely no fresh air to be had. Even a blow dryer would have been cooler than the heat coursing over my torso and through my hair.

Perhaps it is the summer heat. Perhaps it is my lack of medication. Perhaps it is the resurfacing of long ago repressed issues of paranioa. Perhaps it is some combination of all three, but I have been feeling as though people have been staring at me these last few weeks. And it is not just a feeling, not just a sense that someone is watching me. I actually find people staring at me lately. They stare as I am walking by. They stare as I am getting ot of my car. They gawk as I am driving by.

No, it is not that they are staring at me staring at them. I make the odd glance or two to find them still looking at me.

It is very disconcerting. Do I appear that strange, that freakish? I have had to ask myself that lately, for it is not because I have a stain on my white shirt or a booger hanging from my nose...I keep checking.

It is all too familiar. I lived a great many years during the more formative period of my life when I was a bit freakish, when I did have cause to feel paranoid. Now, I do not know what to think.

But I am losing my patience. I am no longer that insecure, frightened fat kid who would not say boo to his own shadow. I am a bit stronger, confident, assertive. I almost lost it today when two people in their car watched me get out of mine, walk into the bank, and then back again, all the while not taking their eyes off of me.

I am confident that it is not because of my good looks, so the next time I may just yell at the gawker to take a picture.

It might last longer.

Be Well