grains of injustice and the sensitive soul

It seems I'm always complaining, and most of the time it's about the same irritants. For that, you have to forgive me. It's hard to swallow what you cannot change, and, for people with delicate consciences, even the slightest grain of injustice irks them. I happen to be one of those people, not that it counts as a blessing or compliment in any way. OCD sufferers have their tics, and I have mine. I wish I didn't (some persons close to me wish I didn't also) but it seems that is a burden I will have to ever until a time comes when I become more callus to life or achieve the perspective of life that everyone else seems to enjoy. If that day ever comes, I know I would not be the only one who breathes a sigh of relief.